Turn It Around, Get a Rewrite
by wendybirb
Summary: Maybe it's the weed, but Craig doesn't pull away, doesn't want to pull away, even though he feels like he should. There's no way locking lips with the quarterback, his former best friend, in the middle of Token's kitchen could lead to anything good. But nothing has ever felt more right. What was it he said earlier? Oh yeah, yolo.
1. You're the Beavis to My Butthead

A/N: okay I started writing this conksuckin story like two years ago and I've got like another 30k written out on my phone. I figured if I don't start posting this now, I'll end up sitting on it for another two years so here you go

Warnings: I actually wrote something with legit sex scenes, yo. Also drugs and underage drinking.

Disclaimer: don't own blah blah

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Craig takes a seat on the snowy back porch, a hand digging through his jacket pocket for his pack of cigarettes. He can hear the loud bass from Token's stereo system even from outside, and it's making his head pound.

Why he decided that coming to one of Token's huge house parties was a good idea, he has no clue. It isn't like Token begged him to come. He normally isn't one for parties, especially the raucous, floor rattling, cop bait ones Token normally throws. He chalks it up to it being senior year and probably his last chance to see all his drunken classmates in one place.

Craig digs a cigarette out of his pack, jamming it between his lips before tossing the pack out into the yard, only then remembering that his lucky white lighter (so called purely for irony's sake) is still in it.

He mumbles a few curses, taking the cigarette between his fingers again.

"Need a light?"

Craig jumps, nearly dropping his cigarette in the snow in the process, his head swiveling around to the source of the question.

He recognizes the voice already, but he has to make sure because there is no way Clyde fucking Donovan is sneaking out the back door of a party to talk to him.

Yet there he is with his perfect teeth, perfect hair, and the red Letterman's jacket he never seems to be without, the lighter in his hand beckoning Craig like a siren's call.

"Yeah that'd be sweet. Especially since I just tossed Snowball out into the abyss," Craig answers, placing the cigarette back between his lips.

Some puffy snowflakes billow up around them as Clyde drops down on the steps next to Craig, flicking his lighter and holding it up to Craig's level. "You named your lighter Snowball?"

Craig takes a small drag, blowing the smoke out his nose in a slow stream as he nods. "Yeah, why the fuck not? Snowball was my lucky white lighter. He lasted me over a year."

Clyde repockets his lighter, a tiny pink one that Craig suspects he stole from Bebe. "That's what you get for having a white lighter. Haven't you heard the legend?" he asks, folding his arms over his knees, his head cocked to the side as he watches Craig.

Craig rolls his eyes. "More like that's what I get for littering." He takes another drag, blowing some smoke rings, a pretty nifty trick he learned from Kenny McCormick last summer. As Kenny always said 'if you can blow a guy, you can blow a smoke ring.' Craig never understood how the two were remotely connected, but Kenny did always like turning everything into sex.

He can feel Clyde watching him and meets his gaze, an eyebrow raised.

"How do you do that?" Clyde asks, gesturing to the no longer visible smoke rings.

Craig shrugs. "It's not that hard. Kenny taught me how to do it."

Clyde leans in closer, bracing a hand next to Craig's thigh, and Craig bristles. This guy never did learn the importance of personal space. "You should teach me!" he says, his face lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning.

Craig can feel his face and neck burn with the implications. He still has vivid memories of the summer he spent with Kenny, learning to suck dick in between learning how to blow smoke rings. 'It's all connected,' he would say, his fingers tangled impossibly in thick black hair. Craig called bullshit (he can't count the number of times Kenny has commented on his "dick sucking lips" on his fingers and toes combined), but it isn't like he wasn't a willing student.

Craig swallows, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and passing it to Clyde. "It's pretty easy," he says, watching Clyde place the cigarette between his lips, watching his chest expand as he inhales it deep. "You just gotta make an o shape with your mouth, then cough a little, like in the back of your throat you know? Don't really cough or you'll just blow all the smoke out at once," Craig explains.

Clyde takes the cigarette out of his mouth, his lips forming the shape, and Craig starts to think he's not the only guy in school with lips that would look nice wrapped around a cock.

Clyde gives a weak little cough, only succeeding in blowing out a big puff of smoke, but he keeps trying. He gets discouraged after his third drag, handing the cigarette back. "Here, I want to watch you do it."

The cigarette is passed back and forth a few times before Clyde finally manages to form a tiny ring, his cheers of success nearly drowning out the noise from inside.

Craig claps him on the shoulder, managing a small smile that Clyde returns, only ten times bigger.

He tosses the nearly burnt out cigarette, huddling in on himself as he remembers that he's only wearing a thin hoodie, having been too annoyed pushing his way through gyrating bodies to try to search for his coat.

Gloves are shoved into his field of vision not a moment later, and he blinks over at Clyde who hasn't stopped grinning at him since his victory moments before. "You looked cold."

Craig blows into his hands a bit before pulling on the gifted gloves. "Such a gentleman."

Clyde laughs, still sitting a little close for Craig's comfort, but Craig welcomes any heat he can get at this point, and Clyde is like a walking, football playing furnace.

"So how have you been?"

Craig raises his eyebrow again, an expression all Tucker's young and old have mastered. "That's a pretty broad question. I've been alright."

He feels Clyde shift next to him, their knees knocking against each other. "And that's a broad answer."

"You get what you give, Donovan." Craig wishes he had another cigarette so he would at least have something to do with his hands. He's pleasantly surprised when Clyde pulls a pack out of his pocket, offering one to Craig. "What are you, my cigarette smoking fairy god mother?" Craig takes the proffered cigarette, letting Clyde light it for him.

"Seriously man. How have you been? I heard about your parents. That's rough," Clyde says, the pity in his voice only serving to piss Craig off.

Craig grunts noncommittally, rolling his eyes because of course news of his parents' pending divorce has reached everyone in the fucking school. Nothing ever stays a secret in South Park. "Can we talk about something else?" he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

He feels Clyde shift again, their knocking knees more of an irritation than anything at this point. He slides further away, hoping Clyde will get the hint and back off. Clyde only follows Craig's movement, ending up nestled against his side again. The guy was always blind to social cues. How he ended up one of the most popular guys in school, Craig would never know.

"How's Stripe?"

Craig feels his irritation go through the roof, shooting a glare at Clyde, who at least has the decency to finally give Craig some space. "He's fine. Buried in my backyard, but you know, fine."

Clyde looks down at his feet. "Oh, I didn't know."

Craig takes another drag, shrugging. "It's fine. I mean, we haven't really spoken much since middle school."

Just like that, Clyde is all up in his business again, looking a little sheepish. "That's actually why I came out here. I miss talking to you."

Craig blows another puff of smoke straight up in the air, his head thrown back and his gaze aimed at the stars. He misses Clyde's stare. "Why?"

Clyde seems a little thrown by the question, like he didn't quite know the answer himself. "I don't know man. We were best friends. You're still the best friend I've ever had. You were like the Starsky to my Hutch, the Ren to my Stimpy, the Beavis to my Butthead."

"Nah you'd be Beavis."

Clyde snorts but continues his rant. "You're the Laverne to my Shirley, the Lassie to my Timmy-"

"What are you trapped in a well now?"

"Shut up Craig, we're having a moment. You're the Kyle to my Stan."

Craig nearly chokes to death on his cigarette, coughing up a cloud of smoke. "What the fuck, Clyde? We're nothing like those queermos. Besides, if we were, you'd be the Kyle to my Stan."

"Why do I have to be Kyle?" Clyde is honest to god pouting, his lip jutting out in a way that Craig shouldn't find arousing but does.

"Because, me and Stan already look alike. And you're the one with the nice ass like Kyle. Plus, you've both been in Bebe's pants," Craig states, grinning like he just made some clever connection.

A mock glare is aimed at Craig as Clyde shoves his shoulder playfully, a hint of a blush dusting his cheeks. "Fuck off Craig. I don't love you anymore."

Craig tosses his cigarette, laughing as he leans over Clyde's lap. "Come on baby. Don't be like that," he coos, pressing his shoulder up against Clyde's.

Raucous laughter fills his ears and before he knows it, he's being dragged into a tight hug. "I really did miss you, dude," Clyde says, his voice muffled a bit by Craig's shoulder.

Craig fights the urge to pull away. He's never been much of a hugger, but he doesn't want to seem like an asshole. He still remembers all the bear hugs Clyde subjected him to as a kid. Clyde had always been touchy and emotional. He expressed all his emotions through some form of platonic physical contact, and boy did he have a lot of them.

Clyde holds on to Craig a little longer than is necessary, only pulling back a tiny bit when he does finally decide to let go. "Do you want to do something next weekend? You could come to our first home game on Friday!"

To be perfectly honest, Craig hates football. He used to play as a kid, but his interest in sports has since tapered off and made way for more obscure pastimes. Clyde, however, stayed in all the sports he could, although Craig suspects that might also have something to do with Clyde's father.

Craig doesn't remember much about Clyde's parents. He only has a vague recollection of Mr. Donovan being a stern father, even more so after the death of his wife. Craig suspects that Clyde was pushed into varsity sports as a means to make it into a decent college, Clyde's grades having always been lackluster.

But Clyde is still looking at him and waiting for an answer. Craig sighs. "Yeah, sure."

The smile blossoming across Clyde's face now is hard not to return with one of his own.

Clyde finally pulls away fully when he hears the back door sliding open, a blonde in an orange hoodie taking up the door frame.

"Hey Tucker, I got a few guys to pitch in some bud. You want in?" Kenny slurs, only then noticing Craig isn't there alone. He blinks at Clyde for a moment as if Clyde's presence temporarily threw him for a loop. Craig thinks it might be the booze's fault though if Kenny's glassy gaze and slight sway are any indication.

Kenny breaks out into a broad grin. "Am I interrupting something?" He's having trouble staying upright already. Craig can't help rolling his eyes. Kenny always liked to party hard. He's always the first one hammered at every booze-fueled get together.

Clyde shakes his head, grinning back at Kenny. "Nope, we were just talking."

Kenny shrugs already making his way back inside. "You can come too. The more the merrier." He briefly stumbles over the threshold, leaving the sliding door hanging open in his wake.

Craig stands, brushing snow off his pants, his gaze flicking to Clyde who is mirroring his actions. "You comin'?"

Clyde nods, following Craig back inside. He makes sure to actually shut the door behind him.

Craig pushes his way through the living room, trying to avoid all the dancing bodies. He knows Kenny and his friends are probably out in the garage. The only rule Token ever has at his house parties is that any weed must be smoked in the garage. He says it's the easiest place to air out, and he doesn't really want a repeat of last year. Craig doesn't know the whole story, but he heard that Token's parents came home to a smoky bedroom complete with some asshole's forgotten bong. Why Token's parents continue to allow him to throw parties, Craig does not know, but he suspects they were quite the partiers in their time too. He has a vague recollection of Token and his eleven year old self finding a collection of hippie relics in the attic, and you can't spell hippie without drugs.

Craig and Clyde finally make it to the garage, a big open space taken up by a circle of people, Kenny in the middle. Craig makes his way over, settling down next to a very drunken Stan Marsh. He gives Stan a little nod of acknowledgement only to be met with a watery stare. So girl troubles. Again.

Clyde takes a seat on Craig's other side, striking up a conversation with the girl sat next to him. Craig doesn't recognize her. He thinks Kenny probably brought her along. She laughs at something funny Clyde said, and Craig scowls, turning his attention on Kenny who is taking his time rolling the biggest blunt Craig's ever seen in his life.

"Was Wendy in there?" Craig looks back at Stan, the latter looking like he is close to vomiting.

Craig scoots a little closer to Clyde not wanting any vomit on him when Marsh inevitably voids his stomach contents. "I think she was talking to Token or something." Craig can tell that was the wrong thing to say by the way Stan's expression darkens, but it's only a split second until he goes back to looking like a kicked puppy.

"She dumped me." Stan sounds so beaten up over it, which Craig doesn't even understand. The two have been dating since the third grade, but they've spent more time broken up than together. He figures Marsh should be used to it by now.

"I figured." Craig turns back to watch Kenny again, hoping their conversation is over and done with. He does not want to end up with a sobbing Marsh draped on his shoulder again. He got his fill of that the last time the two had inadvertently spent some time in each other's presence.

Kenny seems to have finally finished his monster blunt, placing it between his lips and digging out his lighter, an orange one because of course it's orange. He takes a big hit to get the thing started before passing it along, the smoke billowing from his mouth rising above everyone's heads.

The blunt is smoked through quickly. Even Stan takes a couple hits, his quiet sniffling turning into poorly concealed giggles.

Clyde is back to gluing himself to Craig's side, but Craig can't bring himself to care. In his mind, he's a spaceman. That's all that matters right now.

Except now he's realized how hungry he is and how there is a distinct lack of pizza rolls in his general vicinity. Houston, we have a problem. We've touched Mars and there's no pizza rolls in sight.

Craig knocks his elbow against Clyde's in an effort to stand, his new mission clear.

"Where are you going?" Clyde is already standing with him and starts following Craig out of the garage even without an explanation. Craig doesn't give him one.

The pair dodge their way around a very annoyed looking Broflovski, presumably on his way to rescue a certain super best friend, and make a beeline for the kitchen. Craig steps over a passed out Butters, checking the freezer for anything resembling a pizza roll, thanking every god he can think of when he's met with a family pack.

He sets the box on the counter in front of Clyde like the offer of a sacrifice and watches as Clyde breaks out in a big grin. "Holy shit dude. I was just thinking the same thing!"

Craig grins back, ripping the box open. "Maybe that's why we were best friends." He grabs a plate out of the cabinet, loading it up with as many rolls as will fit and shoving it all in the microwave. "How long do I cook this shit for?"

Clyde fumbles with the box, hunting for the instructions for a bit. " How many you got in there?" he asks, holding the box up in front of his face and squinting hard.

"Like thirty maybe?" Craig opens the door again just to check.

"Uh it doesn't give any instructions for that many. Maybe we should cook them a few at a time."

Craig scoffs, pressing some buttons. "Yolo, Clyde. Yolo."

"Did you just yolo me?" Clyde stands, stepping over Butters to place the remaining rolls in the freezer before hopping up on the counter. "Why did I ever think you were cool?"

"You thought I was cool?" Craig sounds genuinely surprised, taking a seat next to Clyde and swinging his feet absently. He keeps his distance still. Even stoned he tends to like his space.

"Of course I did. You were like this enigma when we were kids. You were that kid that didn't say much but everyone still knew," Clyde says, his arms moving about erratically. Clyde gestures a lot when he's stoned. Craig can't stop watching his hands. "You always had the same expression on your face and the same tone of voice. It was hard to get a rise out of you, like you didn't give a fuck about anything. It was kind of cool getting to be your best friend actually. I feel like I got to see things no one else did." Clyde turns his gaze on Craig, who's still watching his hands, and his voice softens. "I got to see you laugh and smile a lot more than everyone else, and I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who's seen you cry in the history of forever." Clyde looks back at his lap, a hint of a laugh in his voice, but Craig keeps looking at him. He can't look away. Not now.

He never thought of himself as an enigma. He never thought of himself as any of the things Clyde described him as. "Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not an enigma. I'm not some mysterious cool kid."

"What are you then?" Clyde is looking at Craig again, leaning back on his hands.

Craig stares at him for a second before shaking his head, turning his gaze on his own clasped hands. "Just Craig, I guess. I'm not really anything." He shrugs, focusing on Clyde again when he feels a hand on his arm.

Clyde is staring at Craig intently, his gaze making Craig shiver. He squeezes Craig's arm. "You are something. You've always been something," he says, his voice barely a whisper.

Craig stares back, completely at a loss. Clyde's grip loosens, his fingers sliding down Craig's arm but making no effort to retreat. Craig feels goosebumps on his arms. He feels like he's in a romcom right now, the moment right before the big kiss.

But he stops that thought right there because this is Clyde. The same Clyde who has been a ladies man since elementary. The same Clyde who plays football and has had a perfect on again off again relationship with the head cheerleader for years.

The same Clyde who is now gazing very intently in his eyes and leaning in imperceptibly. The same Clyde who is stroking his cheek. The same Clyde who is now kissing him. Interesting.

It only takes a second for Craig's brain to catch up to the event currently transpiring and only another second more for it to completely short circuit.

Maybe it's the weed, but Craig doesn't pull away, doesn't want to pull away, even though he feels like he should. There's no way locking lips with the quarterback, his former best friend, in the middle of Token's kitchen could lead to anything good. But nothing has ever felt more right. What was it he said earlier? Oh yeah, yolo.

Craig doesn't protest when Clyde presses his tongue between his lips, doesn't protest when his fingers find their way under his shirt. He's very far from protesting when Clyde presses him down onto the counter, straddling his hips just so he can kiss him harder.

It's only when Craig remembers that they're in the middle of the fucking kitchen at a giant party where anyone can walk in that he pushes Clyde away. Clyde looks a little hurt, but Craig presses a quick kiss to his lips to cheer him up, leaning in closer so he can breathe into Clyde's ear, making him shiver. "Let's go upstairs."

Craig can see the heat racing up Clyde's neck from this close and smirks to himself when Clyde hurriedly grabs his hand, dragging him out of the kitchen and narrowly avoiding a still passed out Butters.

Before they know it, they're in Token's parents' room, sprawled on the bed and kissing lazily. Clyde hovers over Craig, his lips pressed to Craig's neck, his fingers splayed over Craig's bare stomach. Craig's eyes are closed, his shirt rucked up to his chest. Clyde's found one of his few weakspots, his neck being one, and, as Clyde happily finds a second later after a harsh bite, his collarbone being another. Craig bites back a moan, unbelievably turned on. It's when Clyde smirks at him that he knows he has to turn the tables. He can't let Donovan get too cocky.

Bracing his hands against Clyde's shoulders, he pushes him to the side, rolling himself over so he can take a turn on top. Clyde looks a bit flustered but doesn't protest the new arrangement.

Craig settles on his hands and knees, looking in Clyde's eyes, his fingers wasting no time in finding his zipper. "I want to make you feel good," Craig says. Clyde swallows. Craig watches his Adam's apple bob. "There's one more trick I can show you."

Clyde's eyes are dark when he makes eye contact again, and his hips buck up when Craig's hand finds its way into his boxers. He still gazes at Craig intently, and Craig knows this time that it isn't a look of friendly concern. All he finds there is pure desire.

He uses his elbow to nudge Clyde's legs further apart, dragging Clyde's jeans and boxers down until they're past his knees. Clyde for his part doesn't seem at all embarrassed to have his former best friend staring down his dick, so Craig wastes no time, wrapping his fingers around the base. Clyde rolls his hips up once, his back arching, and Craig smirks knowing he now has the upper hand.

He hooks his other arm under Clyde's thigh, leaning forward to swallow him down. He can feel Clyde trying to move his hips and presses them down with his elbows, taking more of him in as he does so. A mess of moans and curses tumble out of Clyde's mouth at random intervals, and it isn't long before Craig feels fingers tangle in his hair. Clyde's feel nicer than Kenny's, shorter and thicker but gentler. Craig hates having his hair pulled, which of course made Kenny want to do it more often.

Craig flicks his gaze up to Clyde's face, a jolt shooting down his spine when they lock eyes. Clyde's eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide, and his lips are parted, heavy breaths billowing out in a steady rhythm. Craig presses a hand to Clyde's stomach, holding eye contact as he takes Clyde to the back of his throat. He loses Clyde's gaze after that, his head thrown back against the pillows, and for the first time that night, Craig is grateful for the obnoxious music as without it everyone would have heard the obscene moan Clyde just let loose.

Craig closes his eyes, speeding up his movements. He can feel Clyde's stomach tensing beneath his palm, his thigh muscles taut, so he retreats, letting his hand take over. While he doesn't mind sucking dick, he always avoids having any jizz anywhere near his mouth. Kenny used to make fun of him for it. 'What kind of gay man doesn't like the taste of jizz?' he'd say. Then he'd make a show of licking Craig's fingers clean in a way that always made Craig feel more sick than turned on.

Craig is thrown out of his reverie by the sound of his name tearing out of Clyde's throat. He keeps his hand moving all through Clyde's orgasm, amazed at just how much Clyde moves when he's hit his peak. He's never seen a full body orgasm before, but he's sure that's what Clyde's experiencing right now.

Clyde drops back down against the bed, his fingers still moving through Craig's hair in a way that makes Craig think he's forgotten he's even doing it. His gaze locking on Craig's a second later, however, tells him he hasn't forgotten.

The sleepy smile that spreads across his face a few seconds later makes Craig's stomach flip in ways that have never happened before, ways that nearly make him turn tail and run.

"You're really good at that. Did Kenny teach you that too?" he says, his voice is raspy in a way that makes Craig's dick twitch.

"I've just had practice." Craig winces after he says it, but Clyde doesn't say anything. He sits up, pulling Craig into another kiss, not seeming to mind tasting himself in Craig's mouth.

It's not long before their positions are reversed, Clyde kneeling between Craig's spread legs, his hand working a steady rhythm. He leans in to kiss Craig again, and Craig is positive he's never been kissed this much during sex before. Kenny has only ever kissed him twice. Once when he was drunk out of his mind, and once more when he realized he had been too drunk to remember what kissing Craig had felt like. He always insisted kissing was too intimate, that he was saving his first real kiss for his soul mate. For a guy who has as much sex as Kenny, he has always been a bit of a hopeless romantic.

Clyde moves his lips to Craig's neck again, and Craig knows he won't last much longer. He's passed the point of no return already. Clyde seems to sense his impending orgasm and backs off a bit to avoid the line of fire.

Craig is sent over the edge a few moments later, his orgasm rolling over him slowly in a way that makes his toes curl.

Clyde grabs a couple tissues off the night stand, cleaning them both up before helping Craig get his clothes back on. Craig knows he's capable of doing it himself, but his eyelids are drooping, and he's too tired now that his high's worn off to protest. All he wants to do now is curl up in Token's parents' bed and sleep. Clyde seems to have the same idea, tucking the blankets around them as he settles against Craig's side.

He turns the lamp off, lying so he's facing Craig in the dark. He pushes a leg in between Craig's, his arm draped over Craig's waist. Lips find lips again, and they kiss lazily for what feels like hours before Clyde finally pulls away, pressing his head under Craig's chin.

Craig knows he should have guessed Clyde would be cuddly after sex. It was almost expected. What wasn't expected at all was for Clyde to breathe an 'I love you' against his throat, the confession feeling like it's been burned into Craig's skin.

Craig squeezes his arm, pressing a kiss to his head. He knows he should say something, but no words will come to him. He's thankful when he hears Clyde's soft snores a moment later, drifting off himself not long after.

Craig wakes the next morning, tangled impossibly in blankets that don't belong to him and in a room he doesn't recognize. It's only when he's sat up and looked around in a daze for a few minutes that he remembers where he is. Memories of the night before come flooding back, the back porch, the alcohol, the weed, Clyde... Clyde!

Craig turns toward where he last saw Clyde, but the bed next to him is empty. The only thing assuring him the whole mess hadn't been a dream is the pair of gloves stowed away in his pocket. He stares at them a moment before shoving them back in his jacket and throwing the blankets off. He has a new goal in mind: finding Clyde… or pancakes.

He trudges down the stairs, stepping over bottles and cans. There are a couple people still passed out in various places, meaning it can't be too late in the day. Craig just hopes Token is awake and moving.

He finds Token in the kitchen, a glass of water in hand, and moves to lean against the counter next to him, giving him a casual greeting.

Token nods at him, draining the glass. "How was the party, man?"

Craig shrugs, taking the glass from Token once it's refilled. "Loud," he responds shortly, sipping at the water.

"Well yeah, it's a party. I'm kinda surprised you're still here actually. You usually either don't show up or only stay an hour." Token raises an eyebrow at him before wiggling them both suggestively. "Let me guess, you got some last night."

Craig wants to deny it, but he can feel the traitorous blush taking over his face already and knows nothing he says now will convince Token otherwise. "I guess you could say that," he concedes, unable to keep the sigh out of his voice.

Token claps him on the shoulder. "Damn dude, congrats! Who was it?"

Craig shakes his head. "I can't tell you that," Craig says, feeling guilty already. He knows he can trust Token. Token has been one of his best friends since elementary school. He was one of the first people he came out to. The only time Token ever disapproved of anything he did was when he hooked up with Kenny, and even then all he got was a stern talking to and a look that he lovingly refers to as 'the disapproving Token.'

"Come on Craig. It can't be so bad that you can't tell me." Token nudges him with his elbow, looking at him expectantly, but Craig knows he can't tell him. Not right now.

"Can I tell you later? I'm still trying to sort shit out for myself. I'm not really ready to talk about it out loud." He avoids Token's gaze, knowing he'll only feel guiltier if he does look at him.

Token sighs. "Alright man. I'm here when you're ready." He nudges Craig again, giving him a smile when Craig finally looks up, a smile Craig returns. "Oh yeah, I was meaning to ask. Did you see anyone messing with any pizza rolls in here? They scorched the microwave with that shit." He gestures to the aforementioned microwave, a mountain of blackened rolls sitting inside.

Craig bites his lip to stop the laughs threatening to break free. "Oh shit."

"Craig." Craig knows without even having to look at Token that he already knows the pizza roll scoundrel is him. The disapproving Token he's met with when he does finally look at him only confirms it.

"What do you want from me? I was baked." Craig lets some laughs slip as he glances at the soiled microwave again.

"What do I want from you? I want you to clean my damn microwave!" Token mock yells, grabbing a towel off the counter and tossing it at Craig's head. He moves to the cabinets under the sink to dig out some cleaner. "My mom will kill me if she sees that. It looks like a damn pizza bomb went off in there."

Craig is still laughing as he takes the cleaner, getting to work on scrubbing off the remains of his forgotten midnight snack with Token's continued ranting about how he could have started a fire serving as background noise.

Craig and Token spend the rest of the day cleaning, taking the occasional break to kick out lingering party guests or play video games. Token never asks about Craig's mystery hook up, even though Craig knows he's noticed him checking his phone more often than usual.

Craig keeps hoping for some speck of contact from Clyde, but is disappointed every time. The night runs through his head in vivid detail, but more and more often he thinks of the words Clyde whispered against his neck. He wants to know if Clyde meant it. He doesn't know if he wants Clyde to have meant it. Nobody has ever told him they loved him. He wouldn't know how to react if someone did.

Craig nearly jumps when his phone buzzes, his eyes refocusing on the screen.

 _From: rubes_

 _mom wants to kno when ur comin home and that u didnt die of alcohol poisoning_

Craig rolls his eyes, ignoring the disappointment he feels knotting his stomach as he types out a reply.

 _To: rubes_

 _im alive and well tyvm. tell her whenever i feel like it_

Craig hits send on the text, turning his attention back to the movie. He knows it's really Ruby who is worried about his well being. His parents generally don't care where he is as long as he checks in every couple of days. His little sister has always worried though. Craig always thought it odd how protective she is of him. He supposes they're both protective of each other. They need to be at times when their parents are too busy arguing to pay attention.

 _From: rubes_

 _did u have fun_

 _To: rubes_

 _yeah. thanks for the concern btw_

 _From: rubes_

 _moms concern not mine… love u stay safe_

 _To: rubes_

 _sureeeeee. love you too_

Craig smiles at his phone before pocketing it again, turning to look at Token when he gets a nudge in the side.

"Texting the guy from last night?" He wiggles his eyebrows again, and Craig rolls his eyes.

"My sister." Craig turns back to the tv, propping his feet up on the coffee table and laughing when Token shoves them off a second later.

"I've never seen you in such a good mood. You sure you're not in love or something?" Token laughs at Craig's near spit take. "Should I take that as a yes?"

Craig shakes his head wildly. "Hell no! You know how I feel about that sappy shit. Besides, it would take more than one night of sucking dick to get me to fall in love with a guy," Craig says, fighting back a laugh at the look on Token's face. "I may be a ho, but I still have standards."

Token does laugh at that. "Oh yeah, that's right. Ho Craig and his impossibly high standards."

"Exactly. I don't just go for anybody. They gotta have class." Craig adjusts himself on the couch, tucking his legs up under himself.

"Yeah, because Kenny McCormick screams class." Token rolls his eyes, pausing the movie and standing up. "You want a pizza or something? I'm starving."

Craig nods. "It's like you read my mind. Quick, what am I thinking now?"

Token makes a show of thinking hard, doing one of those douchey moves the psychics on tv use. "You're thinking I should get cheese sticks."

Craig gasps dramatically, his eyes wide. "You are psychic. Also please get pizza sauce."

Token gives him a mock salute, heading off into the kitchen as Craig pulls his phone out again, checking for any messages from Clyde. Still nothing. He resists the urge to huff and throw his phone like an angsty girl, tossing it on the couch cushion instead. He's already decided he isn't going to contact Clyde first. He doesn't even know what he'd say to the guy as it is.

He's not in love with Clyde. He knows that much. Token is completely wrong about that, but Craig does know it will be awkward the next time they see each other. He's just starting to wonder if Clyde will even remember what he said when Token returns with some sodas, handing one to Craig and propping his feet up on the table.

Craig gives him a look of disbelief, gesturing at his legs. "What the hell, man? You never let me prop my feet on the furniture."

Token shrugs, sinking down on the couch. "My house."

Craig scowls before an idea hits him. He smirks, stretching his legs out and propping them up on Token's. Token raises an eyebrow at him but doesn't protest, turning the movie back on. He doesn't make Craig move his legs until the pizza gets there and even then, Craig just puts his legs right back in Token's lap once they're both settled.

Token rests his plate on Craig's shins, leaning forward so he doesn't drip sauce on himself. He briefly turns his attention on Craig, laughing when he sees the sauce dripping down Craig's shirt. "Dude, you are incapable of eating anything without soiling yourself. Do you need a bib?" He only laughs harder when Craig flips him off.

"At least give me a napkin, you bastard." He snatches it out of Token's hand, wiping the sauce off his shirt and chin.

"Do you need a wet wipe?" Token keeps laughing, dodging the dirty napkin Craig chucks at his head.

"Fuck you, dude." But Craig is laughing now too, holding the plate up by his face next time he takes a bite to avoid anymore mishaps.

Token hands over a few more napkins just in case. "You're staying over tonight, right?"

Craig nods, his mouth still full of food, swallowing before he starts talking. "Yeah, anything to avoid taking the bus." Craig loves staying at Token's on school nights for the simple fact that Token has a car. Half the time they end up missing their first class in favor of an impromptu trip to Denny's.

They stay awake a while longer, finishing the pizza and watching a couple more movies before heading to bed. They share Token's bed, sleeping on opposite sides. Token's bed is huge. Craig remembers childhood sleepovers with their old friend group. His bed could comfortably hold Token, Jimmy, Clyde, Tweek, and him. Tweek always insisted on sleeping at the foot of the bed though. He had a bad habit of flailing his limbs in his sleep. Craig fondly remembers Tweek clocking Clyde in the eye one year when they all had to share a tent. He also remembers how Clyde cried. A lot.

If Craig's honest with himself, he misses his old friends. The only one he's really close to anymore is Token. The rest of their group got involved in their own things and made new friends. He still occasionally goes to Jimmy's stand up nights and Tweek's improv shows, but other than that, none of them talk much. Last night was the first time he had spoken to Clyde in years.

He always thinks about trying to get the old gang back together, but he doesn't know if it would be the same. They're all too different. He's sure none of them have anything in common anymore.

"What are you thinking about?"

The sound of Token's voice startles Craig out of his reverie. He shrugs. "Just our old friends."

"Oh yeah, I saw you talking to Clyde last night. How'd that go?" Token shifts a little, dragging another pillow under his head so he can prop himself up.

Craig knows if he doesn't get Token off this train of thought, he'll figure everything out. He's always been intuitive that way. "It was fine. He said he wanted to be friends again and hangout or something." Craig hopes that was flippant and vague enough to throw Token off the trail.

"Wait." No such luck. "It was Clyde wasn't it." Token sits up fully, looking down at Craig.

Craig sighs heavily, he knows there's no point in lying to Token now. Token always knows when he's lying. "Fine, if you must know, yes it was. I sucked Clyde's dick. Congrats. You solved the mystery." Craig sits up too, crossing his arms over his chest, but not before giving Token a brief and very sarcastic round of applause.

"I knew it! I never saw you talking to anyone else last night. Well, except Kenny, but I wanted to give you some credit at least."

Craig rolls his eyes at that, trying not to pout. "Yep, you just have everything figured out don't you? The Great Token knows everything. Yet again. Now can we go to sleep?"

"One question first. How the hell did that even happen?"

"Well, when two people get drunk and high together, they make babies. The end," he says as sarcastically as possible. Craig can't really see in the dark, but he knows Token is probably rolling his eyes.

"Come on man." Token shifts a little closer, reaching over to switch on the table lamp.

Craig squints against the sudden bright light, feeling even more embarrassed now that he knows Token can see him. "Fine, we were talking, we smoked a blunt with Kenny and his friends, then we tried to make pizza rolls and ended up making out on the kitchen counter instead. Then we went up to your parents' room."

"Sick dude! You better not have gotten anything on my parents' sheets."

Craig rolls his eyes at Token's interruption. "We were careful. I'll wash them tomorrow if it will help you feel better." Craig sinks down against the pillows again, pulling the blanket up around himself.

"Did you initiate it?"

"I thought you said one question," Craig sighs, turning the lamp off and rolling onto his side.

"Well, this one's important." Token is still sitting up. Craig can practically feel his stare.

"No. He kissed me first." Craig avoids Token's gaze, keeping his eyes trained on the bedspread.

Token makes a noise of surprise. "He kissed you first? I always thought he was straight."

Craig shrugs at that. "Me too. But that's not all he did." Craig wasn't sure he wanted to tell Token this part of the story, but he figures if anyone can shed some light on the situation, it would be Token. "He told me he loves me."

"What?" Token switches the light back on, ignoring Craig's protests. "He said he loves you? Did you say it back?" Token is staring him in the face.

Craig shakes his head, fighting the urge to roll his eyes again. "No, because I don't. I hadn't talked to him in like five fucking years before last night. Why the fuck would I say it back?" Craig grinds out. He knows he shouldn't be mad at Token, but the more he thinks about the situation, the more irritated he gets.

Token holds his hands up in mock surrender. "Just asking, dude. What are you gonna say to him tomorrow?"

Craig sighs heavily, turning the lamp off again and dropping back down on the bed. "I don't know. Now can we stop talking about this and go to sleep?" Before Token can even answer, Craig rolls over so he's facing away, pulling the blanket up tighter. He knows he's being unfair, but the whole situation is confusing. He'd much rather sleep now and deal with it poorly in the morning.

Token lies down with him, facing the opposite way. "Alright man, I'll quit bugging you. For now." He doesn't say anything else after that, but Craig knows that means he's gonna be pestered again in the morning.

Craig blocks all thoughts of Clyde from his mind, curling up under the covers and drifting into an uneasy rest.

* * *

A/N: Like I said before, I have a large chunk of this story written out already so hopefully it doesn't take me too long to update, but I'm also maybe kinda writing a second chapter to a Cryde one shot I wrote years ago because this is what my life has become apparently, so maybe keep an eye out for that too.


	2. First You Get Close

A/N: There's a homophobic slur in this one so be warned.

* * *

Token and Craig don't make it to school the next day until after second period. Craig may or may not have purposefully dragged out their Denny's run in order to avoid the only class he shares with Clyde.

Craig sits in front of Kenny in his third period. He spends the entire class half listening to the teacher drone on about economics and ignoring Kenny's attempts at gaining his attention. He only pauses once to flip Kenny the bird when Kenny presses the toe of his boot into the small of his back, but the look on Kenny's face holds his attention. Kenny leans forward, his voice pitched low.

"Dude I gotta talk to you after class. There's something you should know."

Craig raises an eyebrow, filled with an unexplained sense of dread. Kenny is rarely serious about anything, and to see him serious now is disturbing to say the least. He turns his gaze back to the front, but he can no longer pay any attention to what the teacher is saying. He's relieved when the bell rings not long after, immediately turning toward Kenny again. "What do you want, McCormick?"

Kenny packs up his stuff, getting out of his seat. "Not here," he says, his eyes sweeping the classroom. He then walks to the front of the classroom before turning toward Craig, gesturing for him to follow.

Craig sighs but follows anyway. His curiosity has gotten the best of him.

Kenny leads him out behind the school building before he finally wheels on Craig. "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" Craig can feel his irritation spiking already.

Kenny leans against the wall, his arms crossed. "People are saying you threw yourself at Donovan on Saturday." Craig's eyes widen at that, but Kenny isn't finished. "They're saying you begged him to let you suck him off and that he only let you because he feels sorry for you."

Craig can feel his hands balling into fists and fights the urge to punch the nearest wall. "Who's saying that?" He tries and fails to keep the anger out of his voice, the question coming out as little more than a growl.

"I heard it from Bebe, but she said she heard it from Clyde himself. That that's what he's telling people happened at the party."

Craig feels his stomach drop. He wants to punch Kenny when he sees the pitying look aimed his way. "Where the fuck is he?"

Kenny's eyes widen, and he seems ready to protest but rethinks when he sees the look on Craig's face. "He has lunch fourth period."

Craig shoves past Kenny before he can say anything else, boiling with rage by the time he makes it to the cafeteria doors. He throws them open hard enough to gain nearly everyone's attention, the whispering starting up almost immediately. He scans the cafeteria, his eyes locking on the one person he was hoping to find. He watches Clyde stand from the table, waving off his friends' whispers as he moves to meet Craig in the middle. The smug look on his face only makes Craig angrier.

"Did you need something?"

Oh this asshole was gonna get it. "As a matter of fact I do. Why the fuck are you making shit up about me?" Craig doesn't hesitate in getting in Clyde's face this time. He hopes the fucker finds it intimidating.

Clyde only glares back at him, standing taller. "I'm not making anything up. Everyone knows how you are. You'd blow anyone. It's pathetic."

Craig barely registers the laughter of the others at the table as something inside him snaps. He lets out a sharp laugh of his own, his voice sounding alien to his own ears. "Come on, Donovan. Why don't you tell them the truth?" Craig knows without even looking that he has the attention of everyone at the table, but the only attention he cares about at the moment is Clyde's. "Why don't you tell them how you kissed me first? What about how you kept kissing me afterwards? Yeah, I sucked your dick, but how about how you kissed me after that too?" Craig can hear the whispering spike in volume and knows he has Clyde on the retreat now.

Clyde swallows nervously before steeling himself, his gaze hardening. "You really are pathetic. Why would I want you? You're just a disgusting fag."

Craig growls, his fist colliding with Clyde's jaw before he can even think. He watches Clyde hit the floor, leaning over him. "I'm gonna guess you didn't tell them about how you told me you loved me," he spits, loud enough for everyone around them to hear. Craig relishes in the near silence of the cafeteria, at the look of horror on Clyde's face. He turns on his heel and storms out of the cafeteria, hurrying straight for the front doors. He ignores the teacher who attempts to stop him, throwing the doors open and bolting down into the parking lot.

He reaches Token's car before he runs out of steam, pulling his phone out of his pocket with shaking hands, barely managing to type out a quick message.

 _To: toker_

 _dude ditch. i need to be out of here right now._

He fidgets while he waits for Token to respond, quickly unlocking his phone when it buzzes again.

 _From: toker_

 _I'll be right there._

Craig sighs in relief, pocketing his phone again. He doesn't know how things went so wrong. He doesn't even want to think about it. He hasn't spoken to Clyde in years, but he never would have thought him capable of being cruel. He's beginning to wonder if Clyde faked everything for some stupid joke. Craig balls his hands into fists again, digging his nails into his palms to distract himself. He only relaxes when he sees Token approaching.

Craig can tell by the look on Token's face that he already knows about the rumors. Token unlocks the doors and slides into the driver's seat without a word, turning the music on low and pulling out of the parking lot. He drives around on back roads for a while, pulling over when he hears the first quiet sniffles. He puts the car in park and turns in his seat, pulling Craig into a hug. He's known Craig long enough by now to be used to his crying spells. They don't happen all that often, but Token's noticed it happening more and more frequently since his home life went to shit.

Craig pulls away a few minutes later, wiping at his eyes. He is always quick to pull himself together and never likes to cry for too long. Token still watches him just to be safe, only getting back on the road after Craig has assured him he's fine. He drives until near sunset before their growling stomachs compel him to head home.

"You want to stay the night again, man? You can borrow some clothes," he asks, already turning in the direction of his house. He knows Craig will say yes. He can usually tell when Craig doesn't want to be left alone.

Craig nods his head, slumping in the seat. "Yeah, only if I can borrow the pajama pants with the octopuses on them."

Token smiles at that, taking the joke as a sign that Craig is feeling better. "Dude, I think the plural is octopi."

"No. Dude, no, fuck that. I don't want to live in a world where octopi is a word that exists," Craig says with a small laugh, rubbing at his face.

Token laughs too, pulling into his driveway and nodding his head briefly at the security guard. He parks his car out front, stretching his legs as he gets out. Craig does the same, pausing for a moment to pop his back before realizing he left his backpack in his locker during his hasty departure.

"Shit man. I left all my homework at school."

Token only shrugs. "Fuck homework, man. I got Netflix in the garage."

Craig knows every time Token suggests they watch movies in the garage, he's really suggesting they smoke, and he's never been more sure that Token is his best friend than he is in this moment.

It's only once they're a couple bowls in and an hour into a movie Craig can't even remember the name of that Token decides to say something.

"Did you find out who started the rumors?" He cashes the bowl, emptying it out in his hand.

Craig watches Token repack it, sighing to himself and trying not to laugh at the look of concentration on Token's face. "Clyde did."

Token looks up at that, an eyebrow raised. "What? Why the hell would he do that?"

Craig shrugs, crossing his legs under himself. "Beats me. The only thing I can think of is that the whole thing was just some setup to humiliate me."

Token takes a small hit off the fresh bowl, passing it along. "That doesn't sound like something he would do. None of this shit sounds like something Clyde Donovan would do. He always seemed like a nice guy."

"Yeah, guess we were wrong." Craig passes the bowl back, tilting his head back against the cushion, his gaze aimed at the ceiling. He can feel his mind swimming in a way that's not entirely unpleasant in spite of the unpleasant thoughts occupying it. "I can't believe I fell for all that bullshit."

"Dude, you can't go blaming yourself for that shit. You'll only feel worse."

Craig only shrugs, perfectly content to stay where he is and stare at the ceiling. He thinks he's one good hit away from becoming Spaceman Craig. He sees Token holding the bowl out to him in his periphery and takes it with clumsy hands, lifting his head up briefly to take his hit. He inhales it deep and drops his head back against the cushions again, watching the smoke twirl through the air above him. Houston, we've achieved lift off.

They make it through a whole bag of cheetos and three movies before they decide to move inside. Craig watches Token pack up his stuff uninterestedly, pulling his phone out to check for any messages only to find his phone had been blown up while he was in outer space.

 _From: rubes_

 _mom wants to kno where u are_

 _From: tweekers_

 _hey Craig. I heard what happened in the cafeteria. Are you okay?_

 _From: madre_

 _Please reply to your sister. She wants to know where you are and so do I._

 _From: white trash_

 _dude i heard you beat up donovan. what the hell happened man?_

Craig reads them all over, rolling his eyes at his mom's and sister's. He responds quickly to theirs and ignores Kenny's for now before opening the one from Tweek. He and Tweek used to be good friends when they were kids, but he can't remember the last time they spent any time together, let alone the last time he got a text from him. He reads over the message again, feeling a little touched that one of his old friends is genuinely worried about him.

 _To: tweekers_

 _could be better. my hands killing me, but probably not as much as donovans face is killing him_

He hits send on the text and repockets his phone, following after Token. He changes into the octopus pajamas Token promised and an old t-shirt and brushes his teeth before relaxing in Token's room, sprawled on his bed with the tv playing in the background.

He watches Token mess around on his computer for a while, probably doing homework like the nerd he is, before pulling his phone out again.

 _From: tweekers_

 _What happened with you guys? I heard something happened at Token's party, but I didn't hear the whole story. Unless you don't want to tell me! It's fine if you don't!_

Craig smiles to himself as he reads over Tweek's message. They haven't spoken much the past few years, but he can tell from his messages Tweek hasn't changed much.

 _To: tweekers_

 _yeah shit went down at the party, but i don't want to talk about it over text. just know that donovan is a conniving asshole. we can talk about it next time i see you_

"Who you texting man?" Token climbs into bed next to him, pulling the blankets up.

"Tweek." Craig relaxes against the pillows, his phone held up in front of his face as he and Tweek figure out a time and place to meet up. He's honestly glad to be seeing Tweek again. They didn't always get along when they were kids, but once they became friends, Tweek was like a constant source of comfort for him. He always knew the right advice to give Craig when he needed it, in spite of the fact that he was notoriously bad at dealing with his own problems. He feels like he could use some Tweek advice right now.

Craig texts a quick goodnight to his sister and sets his phone on the night stand. He can hear Token snoring already and knows he'll follow not long after. He sinks against the pillows, watching vague shapes flicker on the tv until his eyes slowly drift shut.

He's thrown out of his slumber early the next morning by the blaring of Token's alarm and sits up, rubbing at his face. He hits the off button harder than is probably necessary and rolls out of bed, stretching his limbs. He figures Token is probably in the shower already and goes digging through his dressers for some clothes to borrow. He finds an outfit he can sort of pass off as his own and folds the clothes under his arm, lounging in Token's desk chair to wait his turn.

He sends a quick text to his mom to let her know he'll be home after school and opens up his messages to read the ones he missed.

 _From: tweekers_

 _Hey Craig! I have to work tonight, but you can still stop in and talk if you want. I hope this doesn't wake you up!_

Craig sends a quick reply telling him that yes, he'll stop in, and no, his text did not wake him up before tossing his phone back on the bed.

Token comes back not long after, tossing his old clothes in the hamper, a towel draped over his head. "There's clean wash rags in the closet."

"Thanks man." Craig's about to leave the room when Token stops him with a hand on his arm. He turns to look even though he's sure he already knows what Token is going to say.

"Are you gonna be alright?" He drops his hand, but he still looks concerned. "I can try talking to Donovan if you want."

Craig shakes his head, adjusting the clothes under his arm. "No, it's fine. I just want to forget about it for now." He leaves the room before Token can say anything else, grabbing a towel and wash rag on the way. He hurries through his morning routine, avoiding any thoughts of Clyde and the long day ahead of him.

It's only when Token is parking his car in the school parking lot that all Craig's anxieties catch up to him. He stays put even as Token gets his stuff and gets out. He doesn't want to do this. He can't do this. He doesn't know what he'll do if Donovan tries to approach him. He's contemplating running away when Token opens his door, leaning against it and looking down at him with concern.

"Craig? Are you coming?" He steps back from the door a bit to give Craig room to get out.

Craig sighs heavily, heaving himself out of the car and slamming the door shut. Token would normally complain about that, but he doesn't this time. He only pats Craig on the back before turning toward the school building.

Craig follows without a word, trying hard to suppress the emotional turmoil going on in his head at the moment. He avoids making eye contact with anyone as he walks through the doors and tries pointedly to ignore the whispering he's sure is about him. It's when he gets to his locker that he starts breathing again, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself. Token is still right there next to him, and Craig can see out of his periphery that he is keeping an eye on him, just like everyone else.

"I don't know if I can do this," Craig says, keeping his eyes trained on his locker. He hears more whispers coming from behind him and tries hard not to hear what they're saying. "I feel like everyone knows everything."

Token pats his arm, leaning against the lockers next to Craig's. "Even if they do, who cares? You're Craig Tucker. You don't care what anyone else thinks, remember? Besides I'm pretty sure most of the attention is on Clyde anyway. You made an ass out of him in the cafeteria yesterday."

Craig shrugs, grabbing the books for his first class and slamming his locker shut. He turns to face the hallway, watching people pass. He notices more people looking at him but steels himself against it. Token's right. He doesn't care what people think. He never has. He keeps that idea planted firmly in his mind as he follows Token to their first period.

It's only when Craig is standing outside the door to his second period that he's flooded with insecurity again. He stands there for what feels like hours fidgeting with his books. He's horrified to discover that he's actually scared of walking in there. He doesn't want people looking at him or talking about him or even thinking about him. He thinks of how he'll have to see Clyde too and feels his stomach bottom out.

Token said most of the attention was on Clyde, but Craig can't help doubting that, especially with the way everyone passing him to enter the classroom has to pause and give him a once over first. He feels his flight response kicking in again but quickly squashes it. He can't have Token ditching class again, and he knows it'll be just that much harder to go to class tomorrow if he doesn't do it today.

With that thought in mind, he takes a deep breath and strides straight into the room and to his desk in the back, his eyes trained firmly on his empty chair and purposefully avoiding the gazes of any of his classmates.

Almost immediately, the teacher launches into a rant about fate versus free will in the Steinbeck monstrosity she's been forcing them to read for the past month, and almost immediately, Craig tunes her out.

It only takes a few minutes for him to crack and finally allow his eyes to wander the room. The first thing he notices is that nobody is looking his way. Then his eyes land on the empty desk a few rows ahead, and his brows furrow. All that fear and anxiety over facing Donovan again, and the asshole didn't even show up.

Craig huffs out a breath, smashing the part of himself that is a bit relieved over Clyde's absence, and focuses instead on the aliens he's been doodling in the margins of his notes.

He's got about four pages filled by the time the bell rings, ink staining his fingers and the side of his hand. He flips his notebook shut and stands, walking out of the room without looking at anyone.

People are still watching him as he walks by, but he doesn't hear as much whispering going on and sends his thanks for small miracles.

He pauses on the way to his locker, noticing that the space in front of it is already occupied. Craig's lips quirk up a bit when he spots the tall, twitchy blonde waiting for him.

Tweek looks up at him as he approaches, a small smile on his face as he backs away from Craig's locker. "Hey Craig. How are you?"

Craig enters his locker combination and shrugs his shoulders. "Surviving."

Tweek grips the strap of his messenger bag tighter, his knuckles turning white. "Are you still coming to the shop later? It's okay if you don't want to!" He says the last part in a rush, and Craig laughs.

"It's cool, dude. Yeah, I'm still coming. I'd rather explain all this shit somewhere that isn't school anyway," he says, slamming his locker shut after he trades out his books.

Tweek nods, his grip loosening. "Well, I'll see you later then! I gotta go to Chemistry."

Craig raises an eyebrow, turning toward his next class. "Yeah? How do you and those chemicals mix?"

Tweek is already starting to walk away but pauses to call back a "not very well!" over his shoulder, the laughter clear in his voice.

Craig laughs too and makes his way to Economics, realizing suddenly that's he no longer dreading the rest of the day.

As it turns out, the rest of the school day was uneventful. He spent third period ignoring Kenny's attempts at weaseling what happened out of him, including the many notes shoved onto his person, and the rest of the day ignoring everyone else except Token and Tweek.

He tells Token on the way home that the day wasn't bad and is happy that for once he doesn't have to lie (not that he can ever lie to Token anyway.) He doesn't mention the dread beginning to worm its way back into his mind at the thought of seeing Clyde though and quickly waves Token off after being dropped off in his driveway in order to avoid more questions.

Craig heads inside and kicks his shoes off by the door, heading straight for the stairs only to be intercepted by his mother halfway there. She looks him over briefly and gives him a tired smile.

"How was school?" she asks, and Craig only shrugs, not giving any vocal response at all. "How are you?" she tries again, and Craig shrugs again, weaving around her to go to the kitchen instead.

She follows after him and watches him make a sandwich in silence, the tiredness in her face sinking in a little more. "Craig, I'm really worried about you. Should I be worried?"

Craig pauses in his culinary venture and sets his things down, a frown crossing his features at the sadness in his mom's voice. He turns to face her, not quite able to meet her eyes. "I'm fine, mom."

"Are you sure? I've been hearing things around town, and I…"

Craig steps closer, placing his hands on her shoulders, and she pauses. Craig can see the worry and guilt and a whole mess of other bad emotions swimming in her eyes from this close and feels his heart sink to the floor. He wants to tell her he really is fine, but he can't summon the words, and he can't bring himself to lie again.

She keeps looking at him, her eyes growing wetter as time passes, and she swallows before speaking again. "I just want to know what's going on with you. I feel like you don't tell me anything anymore. I almost feel like I don't know you."

Craig looks away, his eyes feeling hot from the tears he almost hadn't noticed were forming. He feels angry and sad and guilty and annoyed at himself for crying again, the tears almost spilling over when his mom places her hand on his cheek, her own eyes swimming now.

"I know I've been busy with the divorce, and that I've been away a lot, but I still love you. I want you to feel like you can talk to me." She leans up a bit to kiss his forehead, and Craig manages a small smile for her benefit.

She brushes his hair back and returns the smile. "It's always nice to have someone on your side, you know?"

Craig nods and sniffles embarrassingly before sighing deeply. "I have a lot of stuff to tell you," he begins, and it's only after an hour and a half spent sitting on the couch relaying everything that's been happening to him for the past year, including Kenny and Clyde but excluding the heavy details, that he finishes speaking, trailing off with a mumbled "and yeah."

His mom has been mostly quiet throughout his whole tale, only asking a few questions here and there. She pulls Craig into a tight hug as soon as he finishes speaking, rubbing his back gently. "It's been a long time since we've gotten to talk and even longer since you've let me hug you like this," she says, and she laughs quietly, pulling away. "I love you."

Craig smiles back and nods, genuinely happy to see that his mom's mood has lifted. "I love you too. I gotta go though. I'm supposed to meet up with Tweek."

She waves him off without further explanation, a smile on her face. "Have fun!" she calls after him, and Craig gives her a brief wave before heading out to his car.

He pulls up in front of Tweek Bros not long after, happy to see that the place doesn't seem busy at all. He hopes Tweek's parents don't have him doing a million and one insane chores in the back like they used to when he was a kid.

He spots Tweek standing behind the counter as soon as he walks in though and walks straight up to him, ringing the bell on the counter just for fun.

"Nice apron."

Tweek glances down at the aforementioned garment, a white frilly thing with the words "kiss the barista" emblazoned on the front, and blushes deeply. "Shut up, Craig! My work apron got torn in the washing machine."

Craig smirks, plucking at the lace around the side. "I think I like this one better."

"Ngh, shut up!"

Craig laughs deeply and holds his hands up in surrender. "Sorry dude," he says, not actually looking very sorry at all. He nods his head toward a table in the corner after the laughter has stopped. "Got a minute?"

Tweek nods and steps out from behind the counter, taking the apron off and tossing it under the counter before taking a seat. "So why is Clyde a conniving asshole?"

Craig tells him everything, not sparing the details this time and feeling less awkward talking to Tweek than he did talking to his mom. By the end, Tweek seems angry and confused, nearly identical to how Craig felt when he confronted Clyde in the cafeteria.

"Why did he do that? I mean, why did he feel like he had to tell anyone in the first place?"

Craig shrugs, resting his cheek on his palm. "I couldn't tell you. Hence my reasoning for calling Donovan a conniving asshole."

Tweek pats his arm gently, a frown on his face. "I'm really sorry, Craig," he says, and Craig can tell he means it.

They talk a while longer, Tweek getting up every once in a while to help a customer or clean something, only parting ways once it's time for Tweek to start closing up the shop.

They make plans to meet again and to text more often, and Craig leaves feeling a thousand times lighter than he had before, his anxieties temporarily forgotten.

* * *

A/N: Craig's opinions on East of Eden in no way reflect those of the author (I'm a nerd who loves Steinbeck). Hope you enjoyed the read!


	3. Came in Through Your Window Sleepwalking

The rest of the week flies by in a blur of makeup work and continued attempts at ignoring the rumor mill. Craig is happy to find that the rumors have quieted down by the time the weekend rolls around. The happiness is short-lived though when he figures out that Token and Tweek had made plans to ambush him and drag him to the first game of the season (only finding out after they had gotten him in the car and driven half way to the school.)

"I don't know why I agreed to come here," Craig sighs, blowing into his hands, the sneer on his face having stuck there since he first figured out where they were going. He's nestled between Token and Tweek near the front row, shivering slightly in the cold.

Token nudges his arm. "You can't spend the rest of your life avoiding Clyde, man." He cheers as the football team starts to file out, doing their run of the field.

Tweek claps along, looking at Craig. "He's right. It's not healthy to avoid your problems."

Craig rolls his eyes, giving Tweek a look of disbelief. "You do that all the time!"

Tweek only shrugs, giving him a little smile. "Yeah, but we're not talking about me. We're talking about you. Besides, look at how I turned out." Craig doesn't know if the little twitch at the end of his sentence is real or not, but he laughs anyway. He only laughs harder when Tweek flips him off.

"Which one is Clyde again? Maybe I can throw something at him." Craig huddles in on himself, watching as the team groups up.

Token sighs. "Twelve, and no."

Craig frowns at him. "Boo."

Token laughs, standing up. "Tweek, keep an eye on him. I'm going to go get nachos." Tweek nods at him, sitting closer to Craig.

Craig scans the jersey numbers until he spots number twelve, startling a bit when he sees that Clyde is already looking his way. Craig averts his gaze, looking back at Tweek instead, who gives him a small smile. He smiles briefly in return before focusing his gaze on his lap. He only trusts himself to look back on the field once he hears the team begin to move to their starting positions.

Token returns with his nachos after the first down, taking a seat on Craig's other side. "Did you behave yourself?"

Craig rolls his eyes. "Yes, mother."

Craig never considered himself to be someone with an overwhelming supply of school spirit. He hardly ever attends any games, and he spends most pep rallies out back smoking. Even so, he finds it difficult to not cheer along with the crowd when the team makes a good play. He claps with Token and Tweek and tries not to feel like a complete tool.

He dips out for a bit once the cheerleaders take the field. He can't summon enough school spirit to watch that shit. He huddles under the bleachers with his cigarette, keeping an eye out for any wandering teachers. He's looking up at the people sitting above him, trying to see if he can recognize anyone by their shoes, when he's startled by a hand on his shoulder.

He whips around, choking on cigarette smoke, only to find Kenny standing with a smile on his face. "What's up?"

Craig scowls, wiping the stray tears from his eyes. "What do you want, McCormick?"

Kenny swipes the cigarette from between his fingers, ignoring Craig's protests as he slips it between his own lips. "Hostile, aren't you? I was just seeing what you were doing." Kenny shrugs his shoulders, blowing smoke out his nose. "We haven't really talked at all this week."

Craig rolls his eyes, digging his pack out of his pocket. He lights up a new one, moving to lean against one of the metal beams. "Maybe I've been avoiding you."

Kenny moves closer, leaning against Craig's side. "Why would you wanna do that?" He glances up at Craig from under his hood, tossing the cigarette butt into the snow.

"I'm not. I said maybe I was." Craig turns his gaze back to people's shoes. He thinks he sees a pair of green high tops that he's sure belong to Kyle.

Kenny sighs, nudging Craig in the side. "Are you okay? You know, with everything?"

Craig looks back at him, an eyebrow raised. "Yeah, why?"

"Are you sure? Because, I mean, if people are giving you trouble or anything, I can throw down," Kenny says with a smile. He moves away from Craig's side so he can stand in front of him instead. "I know I don't look like much, but I can kick ass." He mimics some really awful karate moves that leave Craig doubled over in laughter.

"Dude stop. I got it." Craig stifles the rest of his laughter as Kenny moves back to his side. "I can handle it, man. Don't worry about it."

Kenny doesn't look so sure, but gives him a smile anyway. "If you say so. I'm here for you though. If you need anything, you can always call me."

Craig smiles back and nods. In spite of everything they've been through, he does know Kenny has always had his best interests at heart. He's one of the most selfless people Craig knows. Craig of course would never tell him that, but he thinks Kenny knows anyway. "Thank you," he says giving Kenny one last smile before flicking his cigarette butt. "I should get back."

Kenny nods, giving him a brief wave. "Yeah, me too. I'd be surprised if Cartman and Kyle haven't killed each other yet."

Craig waves him off before heading out from under the bleachers, making his way back to the front row. He stops dead when he sees the big white number twelve hovering in front of Token and Tweek. He considers going back under the bleachers or maybe finding Kenny instead, but no. Tweek is right. He can't run from his problems forever. He can't run from Clyde Donovan forever, so he swallows hard and steels his nerves, walking straight back to his seat. He brushes past Donovan without an apology, dropping himself down onto the unforgiving metal.

Clyde doesn't even look at him. He goes right back to his conversation with Token, a conversation Token doesn't seem all that interested in. It's only after Token brushes him off that Clyde turns his attention on Craig, an unreadable look on his face.

"Can I talk to you for a second?"

Craig scowls, crossing his arms over his chest. "No."

Clyde rolls his eyes but backs away a bit. "Just for a second," he says, nodding his head in the direction from which Craig came.

Craig huffs, shoving himself to his feet. "Jesus Christ, fine." He storms off before Clyde can say anything else, going back behind the bleachers instead of under them. The last thing he needs is to be spotted going under the bleachers with Donovan.

Clyde fidgets once they get there, looking past the fence at the woods behind the field. It's only once Craig has almost lost his patience that he finally speaks. "What are you doing here?"

Craig raises an eyebrow, leaning back against the fence. "Watching the game. What the fuck else would I be doing here?" He crosses his arms again to keep them still. He has an unfortunate habit of gesturing too much when he's angry.

Clyde sighs, shaking his head. "You know I'm with Bebe now."

Craig shrugs. "Congratulations. What the fuck does that have to do with me?"

Clyde merely gives him a pitying look, stepping closer. Craig can feel his hands balling into fists already. "Well, I know you like me, and I'm just gonna tell you, whatever you thought was going to happen between us, it's not. It would never work."

Craig is completely silent, dumbfounded. "Are you fucking for real?"

Clyde sighs again, patting Craig's shoulder as Craig continues to give him a confused stare. "You don't have to pretend, you know. I know what happened at the party, and-"

Craig cuts him off with a raise of his hand, the confusion only growing. "I don't think you do remember what happened at the party. YOU sought ME out. YOU kissed ME first. And you fucking told me you loved me. I didn't make that shit up."

Clyde shakes his head again. "Look Craig, I know you're just trying to pretend nothing happened. Like you weren't at fault for anything, but it happened. And now I'm with Bebe, so you have to let it go."

Craig let's out a sharp laugh, moving away from the fence and taking quick strides past Clyde. "Dude, you are seriously fucked in the head. I don't want you. I never fucking did. Honestly there is no one in this school that I hate more than you right now."

Clyde looks hurt for a second before trying to cover it up. "Craig…"

Craig silences him again. "Fucking save it. I don't want anything to fucking do with you, so please, just leave me the fuck alone." He turns away before Clyde can say anything else, leaving the field completely. He knows Token and Tweek will probably be upset he ditched them, but he can't bring himself to watch the rest of the game.

He sends Token a quick text to let him know he's not coming back as he walks home, his head swimming with anger.

He doesn't know what the hell Donovan is thinking. He couldn't have been so stoned that he doesn't remember anything at all. Not to mention the fact that he seems to think Craig is in love with him, even with the bruise from their earlier confrontation still standing out starkly on his cheek. Craig fights the overwhelming urge to break something, digging out a new cigarette instead and lighting up. He purposefully ignores his phone's buzzing the whole way home.

By the time he makes it to his front door he's freezing and worn out enough to not feel anything at all. He kicks his shoes off and throws his coat on the floor, going straight to his room and locking the door behind him. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and tosses it on the bedspread, ignoring the messages from Token and Tweek in favor of crawling under the covers.

He hears a knock on his door a few minutes later but ignores it, sighing when he hears the lock pop open. He doesn't even know why he bothers locking it. Ruby has been able to pick the lock since she was seven.

He glances up at her from under his blanket nest, trying not to look too miserable. He can tell he's failed when Ruby sighs, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. She crosses her legs under herself and swipes a pillow from him, hugging it to her chest. "What's wrong?"

Craig shrugs. "Nothing."

Ruby gives him that look she gets when she knows he's lying about something, and Craig knows she won't stop giving him that look until he fesses up.

He sighs, rolling onto his back. "Fine. Long story short, I hooked up with Clyde at Token's party. He told me he loved me and now is pretending like he didn't do anything and that I'm some ultra gay succubus who threw myself at him in an attempt to turn him gay. I don't know if he just has a really selective memory or if he's in denial."

"Wait, Clyde Donovan? Weren't you guys best friends?" Ruby is resting her chin on the pillow, and Craig doesn't know if he should feel disturbed or not at how enthralled she always is by his problems.

"Yes. The one who lives next door, and yeah, we were," Craig says, rubbing his face harshly.

"Do you love him?" Ruby shifts backwards so she can lean against the wall, stretching her legs out in front of her.

Craig laughs humorlessly. "Fuck no. I don't even fucking like him at this point."

"Do you think he loves you?" Ruby swipes his phone from off the bedspread, unlocking it. Craig doesn't protest.

"I don't know. He said he did, but he was stoned at the time. And now he's back with his girlfriend." Craig shrugs, burrowing beneath the covers again.

Ruby clicks her tongue, scrolling through his texts. "Maybe he's gay but doesn't want anyone to know. He's probably just scared of being found out, so now he's backtracking."

"Or he's a fucking asshole who was just looking to get his dick sucked." Craig laughs at the disgusted look Ruby gives him. "What? It's probably true."

Ruby sticks her tongue out at him, tossing his phone back on the bedspread. "So did you like run into him at the game or something?"

"Yeah, I mean, he's on the team. I kind of expected him to be there. I just didn't expect him to confront me about this shit, or to try and throw it in my face that he's back with his stupid girlfriend." Craig huffs, sitting up so he can lean against the headboard. "I mean, why the fuck should I care that he's back with her? I don't give a shit."

Ruby gives him a knowing look, an eyebrow raised and everything. "Craig."

Craig stops, giving her a sharp look. He knows what she's trying to insinuate here. "No. Fuck no. I'm not jealous."

Ruby merely stares back, crossing her arms over her chest. Craig wants to hate her for it, but he knows she learned everything she knows from him.

Craig sighs, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling instead. "Fine. I hate his fucking guts, but I also... don't, I guess."

Ruby raises an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"Meaning I don't know," Craig says, staring at the stars still stuck to his ceiling. He registers somewhere deep in his mind that Clyde was the one who stuck them there. "I still miss being his best friend, I guess. I think about all the shit we've been through as kids, and I miss it. But then I think about the shit he's pulled for the past week, and I want to knock his teeth in."

Ruby stays silent, grabbing his phone when it buzzes. "Do you think you could ever be his friend again?"

Craig shrugs, looking down at his lap instead. "I don't know. Not right now. I just want to know why he did this. I mean, why did he kiss me in the first place if he's not gay? Why did he say he loved me if he was just gonna get back together with Bebe a few days later? I don't get it."

Ruby sighs, patting his knee. "High school sounds complicated." Craig grunts noncommittally as she turns her attention back to his phone. It buzzes a few times in sequence, and Ruby perks up a bit. "But hey, looks like you might be able to get an answer to your questions after all." She holds the phone out to Craig, so he can see who's calling.

Craig barely registers the name lit up on the screen before he snatches the phone, answering the call. "Hello?"

'Hey Craig. Uh, it's Clyde. I didn't think you'd answer.' Clyde is speaking quietly, but Craig can't hear anyone else in the background, meaning Clyde is hopefully at home and not at some stupid post game party.

"What do you want, Donovan?" Craig motions for Ruby to beat it, and she does, grudgingly, but not before flipping him off.

Clyde clears his throat, and it's only then that Craig hears wind howling in the background. 'Are you at home?'

"Maybe. What do you want?" Craig grips the blanket tighter, already feeling irritated.

'I'm outside. Can I come in?'

Craig let's out a brief laugh. "No."

'Craig, please. I want to apologize.'

Craig can hear Clyde's teeth chattering and sighs. "Fine, I'll be down in a second." Craig hangs up the phone before Clyde can say anything else, heading downstairs and purposefully ignoring the fact that Ruby was perched outside his door the entire time and the little thumbs up she gives him as he passes.

He throws the door open, finding Clyde standing right outside, a sheepish smile on his face. Craig gestures for him to come inside, leading the way up to his room without a word. He can hear Clyde shuffling up the steps behind him and tries to think of the last time Clyde was even in his house.

He closes his bedroom door behind them, not bothering to lock it this time and takes a seat on his bed, watching Clyde fidget in the middle of the room. "What do you want?"

"I talked to Token," Clyde says, his gaze trained on the floor. He keeps clasping and unclasping his hands in front of himself. Craig is annoyed just watching him.

Craig grabs his cigarette pack off his nightstand, leaning over to crack his window. "And?"

Clyde sighs, moving to sit next to Craig. Craig scoots away a bit, but doesn't protest otherwise. Clyde is still staring down but eventually looks up, looking at the cigarette clasped between Craig's fingers. "Can I bum one of those?"

Craig tosses the pack to him, leaning closer to the window so he can blow the smoke out. He's smoked through more than half before Clyde finally continues.

"Token told me the shit you guys talked about. He told me I was acting like an asshole, and that I should start taking responsibility for the decisions I make. And something about how I shouldn't use other people to figure myself out," Clyde says and takes the ashtray off Craig's thigh, ashing his cigarette in it. "He's clearly a lot smarter than me when it comes to this stuff… And so are you. And I'm sorry." Clyde finally looks up at Craig, his emotions written clearly on his face.

Craig just shrugs, not trusting himself to say anything at the moment and also not really trusting Clyde's sincerity, but Clyde keeps talking before he can start thinking about it too much.

"It wasn't fair to you at all. I just kinda got caught in the moment, I guess. I'm not gay though, and me leading you on like that was unfair."

Craig scoffs, rolling his eyes and stubbing his cigarette out on the windowsill. Of course he had to ruin it. "Let's get one thing straight here. You didn't lead me on. I didn't pursue you. I don't even like you." Craig stands, pacing the room in front of his bed. "I don't understand what you're not getting here. I mean, what was your motive even? What made you seek me out in the first place?"

Clyde is sitting up straight, watching Craig pace, his hands gripping his knees. "I told you. I missed being your friend and wanted to reconnect."

"Yeah, but that was obviously bullshit," Craig spits. He feels the angry gesturing coming on and wants to scream. He's never met anyone so infuriating in his life. "What was all that shit in the kitchen then? You telling me I've always been something. You fucking kissed me man! Let me tell you, that's not something a fucking straight guy does."

"I didn't think you remembered that conversation," Clyde whispers, his face pale. He stands up quickly, setting the ashtray back on the dresser. "I have to go."

Craig glares at him and moves to block the door. "No, fuck that. Tell me what the fuck that was, and then maybe I'll move."

Clyde stares back at him before getting up in his space, trying to pull the door open in spite of Craig's weight pressed against it. "Fucking move."

"No." Craig presses back against it even more, thankful he at least has a few inches over Clyde.

Clyde gives him a hard stare as he backs away a bit only to spring forward again, his lips pressing to Craig's before he can even blink.

Craig feels his brain short circuit just like the first time, barely registering the feel of Clyde's palms pressed to his cheeks. Just as soon as he's there, however, he's gone, backing away to stand in the center of the room.

Clyde wears his inner turmoil plain on his face, gripping his hair hard. "What the fuck is wrong with me?"

Craig can hear Clyde's voice crack and knows he's going to cry before the first tears even make an appearance. He's still angry as he shuffles over to Clyde's side, but he buries it for now in favor of resting a comforting hand on Clyde's shoulder. "Nothing's wrong with you."

"You don't get it! I'm not supposed to like guys. I'm supposed to like girls. I'm supposed to love Bebe and marry her and have kids. But I can't do it. I don't love her." Clyde sinks down on the bed, resting his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. "I love you," Clyde says, and Craig knows this isn't how love is supposed to be.

He takes a seat next to Clyde, watches the tears fall down his cheeks and wonders if he'll ever know how love is really supposed to be. He's never loved anyone in his life, and as far as he knows, Clyde is the only one who has ever loved him. He wraps an arm around Clyde's shoulders and lets Clyde cry into his chest.

Clyde sobs, his grip on Craig's shirt tight. "You ruined everything."

Craig sighs, snuffing his anger and pulling Clyde closer, his chin resting on Clyde's head. "I know."

It takes a long time for Clyde to calm down, but it's always been this way. Clyde always had a hard time getting himself to stop once he started. He wipes his eyes roughly, pulling away to look at Craig. He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it again, swallowing thickly.

"I'm sorry about your shirt," he says, pointing out the large wet spot near Craig's collar.

"It's alright. I can change," Craig says, shrugging as he awkwardly disentangles himself from Clyde so he can grab a new shirt.

Clyde stays seated on the edge of the mattress, staring down at his lap as Craig changes. "Craig."

Craig turns to face him again, tossing his soiled shirt in the hamper.

"I'm so sorry," Clyde says, his voice cracking again. He shakes his head and clears his throat. "For everything."

Craig takes his spot next to Clyde again, sitting a little closer than he normally would. "What are you gonna do?"

"Stay with Bebe, I guess," he says, his fingers messing with the hem of his shirt. "I mean, what else am I supposed to do?"

Craig raises an eyebrow, turning slightly so he can face Clyde. "I don't know. You could try not forcing yourself to be in a relationship with someone you don't like."

"It's not that simple." Clyde grips his shirt tighter, looking up at Craig. "No one can know that I like guys."

Craig crosses his arms over his chest, a frown on his face. "Why not? People know I like guys, and they don't really give me shit for it. Usually."

Clyde sighs heavily, looking away. "It's not them I'm worried about. Just please don't say anything," he pleads.

"I wasn't planning on it," Craig says, moving so he can lean against the headboard.

Clyde looks back at him, a small smile on his face. "Thanks, Craig."

"Don't mention it," Craig says, leaning over to grab the remote off his nightstand, flipping the tv on to some old black and white movie.

Clyde watches Craig for a while before snapping out of it. "Is it okay if I stay here tonight? My dad isn't home, and I don't really like to stay home alone."

Craig shrugs, turning the tv up louder. "I don't care."

Craig watches as Clyde kicks his shoes off, shedding his jacket before joining him. His shoulder bumps Craig's as he settles, but Craig tries not to focus on it. He leans over to flip off the lamp instead and pulls the covers up over their legs.

He still remembers the last time Clyde stayed over at his house. They had lain awake all night watching movies and talking about anything and everything, the only light in the room coming from the tv and the stars glowing above their heads. Craig wishes he could go back to that time where he didn't have to worry about love or sex or anything else. He misses how simple everything used to be.

"Craig?"

Craig startles at Clyde's sudden whisper, turning his head to look.

Clyde is still sitting right next to him, looking like he is about to ask the most difficult question of his life. He grips the blanket tighter but never looks away.

"Can I kiss you?"

Craig knows he should say no. Every fiber of his being is screaming at him to say no. It wouldn't be fair to Bebe or himself, and just look at what happened the first time.

"Okay," he whispers instead, trying to block out the guilt and regret he's sure he'll feel tomorrow.

Clyde leans in almost immediately, their lips meeting more gently than they had earlier. Clyde keeps everything gentle. His lips move slowly as his fingers trail over Craig's collar and down his arm.

It's only when Clyde moves his lips to Craig's neck, his breath ghosting over the skin there, that things start getting more heated. Clyde pushes Craig down against the pillows, his lips pressed to Craig's throat, and Craig knows now he doesn't want this to stop. He wants to stay right where he is with Clyde's mouth on his neck and his hands moving over his ribs.

Clyde doesn't seem intent on stopping anytime soon, his hands slipping under Craig's shirt, pushing it up his stomach. His lips find Craig's again, his tongue sliding past lips and teeth, and Craig swears he could melt through the bed with how hot his skin feels.

Before he knows it, they're both naked, curled together under the blankets. Craig has his hand wrapped around both their cocks, moving slowly. He watches Clyde move his hips, watches him thrust into his hand and wonders if he's lost his mind. He knows everything about the situation is a bad idea, but he can't bring himself to care. Especially not now.

He feels lips press against the skin behind his ear and turns his head, letting Clyde trail his lips down his neck and over his shoulder. Craig bites back a moan, the fingers of his free hand making their way into tangled brown hair, tugging gently at every knot they find.

Clyde pulls back a bit, looking Craig in the eyes, and he smiles when he sees Craig looking right back at him. They kiss again, their lips moving together perfectly.

Craig still doesn't know what love is like, but he can't help thinking this is the closest he'll ever get.

His orgasm washes over him suddenly, nearly taking him by surprise. He almost doesn't recognize his own voice as he moans Clyde's name into the darkness.

Clyde keeps moving with him, his lips pressing to Craig's cheek. He moves to nuzzle his face against Craig's neck, whispering things into his ear that Craig can't quite make out. Craig pulls back a bit, turning his head so they can kiss again. He keeps moving even as Clyde hits his peak, his whole body tensing with the feeling of it.

Clyde looks at him once he's settled, his eyelids heavy. He reaches up to brush some hair out of Craig's face, a smile forming slowly.

Craig stays silent as he watches Clyde roll over, settling against his side. Neither of them make any effort to grab their scattered clothing, pulling the covers up over their chilled skin instead. Craig's mind races with feelings of guilt and regret and a multitude of "what now"s that he knows will still haunt him in the morning.

But then Clyde presses his lips to Craig's temple, settling a little closer, and that's all it takes to quiet Craig's thoughts for the rest of the night.

The first thing Craig sees when he wakes up is the empty stretch of bed next to him, his stomach plummeting as he takes a quick look around and sees that his clothes are the only ones left scattered on the floor.

He rolls over and sighs, his gaze finding the old stars on his ceiling again, and he starts thinking about how he should really take those down. Especially now with his bed still smelling like Clyde and a feeling of deep guilt settling in his chest like a stone.

There's a knock on his door and Craig groans, getting out of bed to grab some clothes. "Hang on!"

He throws on some sweats and an old T-shirt before throwing open the door. Ruby stands in the doorway, a half smile on her face. Craig knows exactly what that smile means and feels even angrier at himself now that he knows his little sister is concerned.

"Are you okay?" She says, and Craig shrugs, taking a seat on his bed again.

"You probably think I'm an idiot," Craig finally says, his head dropping back against the headboard. He hears Ruby pad across the carpet and climb onto the bed next to him.

"Clyde told me to give you this," she says, and Craig's head snaps up.

He snatches the paper from her and unfolds it, his eyes scanning the words quickly.

"What does it say?"

Craig sighs and crumples it up, tossing it into a far corner. "Like you didn't already read it."

Ruby smiles, a shining beacon of innocence, if Craig didn't know her better.

Craig stands, grabbing his jacket and hat off his desk. "Wanna go for a walk?"

Ruby nods and hurries to her room to grab warmer clothes.

Craig grabs his cigarettes and shoves them in his pocket, glancing at his phone before deciding against it.

He heads down the stairs quickly, picking his coat up off the floor and pulling it on as he shoves his feet in his boots. By the time he's ready, Ruby is at the bottom of the stairs, bundled up in her coat and scarf.

Craig gestures for her to go ahead of him and follows close behind as she leads him down the street. Ruby stops once they're a block away and waits for Craig to catch up before continuing on, her arm snaking around Craig's and holding on loosely.

Craig nudges her with his elbow and laughs when she does it back, the nudging quickly turning into pushing and shoving and trying to knock each other into the snow. They're winded when the impromptu shove match ends, from laughter and physical exertion, but Craig notices how quickly Ruby's smile dissolves and knows she's about to drop some serious talk on him. Craig sighs and lights up quickly, thinking about how he'll probably need it in a minute anyway.

"Look, I did read what he wrote you, and I think he was telling the truth," she says, and Craig rolls his eyes.

"Of course you do."

"I do! I know you're angry at him, but what reason does he have to lie about all of this?."

Craig stops walking, pulling his arm out of her grasp. "Well, what fucking reason does he have for jerking me around for a week? Because I couldn't seem to find one in that bullshit letter."

Ruby sighs deeply and looks up at Craig, her eyes sad and her mouth drawn into a thin line. "I didn't say that he had a good reason for him to do the things he's done to you, but I understand why he's scared. Don't you?"

Craig glares at her half-heartedly. He knows she has a point, and he knows he fleetingly thought the same thing. His glare falls flat, and he sighs. "I do, I guess. It's just hard to not be angry about this shit."

Ruby nods and takes his arm again, pulling him back in to motion. "You should still be angry. What he did was shitty, but..."

Craig glances at her again, an eyebrow raised. "But?"

"Just take care of yourself, okay? I just want you to be happy," she finally says, and she gives Craig a little half smile.

Craig smiles back and ruffles her hair in spite of her protests. "I know, Rubes. I will."

They walk a while longer until they're almost too cold to move, Craig having pulled his hat down over Ruby's ears when he noticed how red they were getting.

They come back to an empty house and spend the rest of the afternoon watching cartoons and drinking hot chocolate. It's partway through a Spongebob marathon that Craig realizes how much he's missed days like this. Days spent playing outside with friends, afternoons spent huddled in front of the TV, warming his hands with his mug.

He nudges Ruby with his foot and waits for her to look, her eyebrow raised in a nearly perfect imitation of the way he does it.

"Thank you," is all he says, all he needs to say.

Ruby smiles and leans in, pulling Craig into a big, embarrassing family hug, but for once, Craig doesn't mind at all.

* * *

A/N: For anyone who got the joke about Clyde's jersey number, you're pretty cool. For anyone who didn't, that's okay it was a dumb joke anyway. The next chapter might take a bit longer because I haven't spent as much time fixing it up lmao. Thanks for reading!


	4. I Know We're Just Like Old Friends

Craig wakes up to the blaring of his alarm, his eyes taking a minute to adjust to the bright light streaming through his window. He picks his phone up off the night stand and turns the screen on briefly, vaguely registering that today is Halloween.

He sighs and rolls onto his back, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He stares at the stars above his bed, a sick feeling settling in his stomach. The same feeling he's been having nearly every day for the past month and a half, ever since he made the stupid decision to give Clyde a second chance. He never realized how many things in his life reminded him of his former best friend until he had a real reason to want to forget him.

Craig has barely heard anything from Clyde since that night. He knows Clyde is avoiding him. He's not exactly subtle about it. He averts his gaze whenever they pass in the hall. He makes a point to avoid leaving his house when Craig is sitting on the porch smoking. Craig has even caught him taking the long way through the science wing just to avoid walking by Craig's locker on his way to some classes. The look on his face when Craig ran into him outside the bio lab on his way back from a smoke break was priceless. Needless to say, Clyde doesn't take that way anymore.

If Craig is being honest with himself, he's still angry. But now he can't pinpoint if he's more angry at Clyde for being an asshole or at himself for being so stupid. Token and Tweek have tried their best to comfort him, but there's only so much they can do. Although Craig does have to admit that hanging out with Tweek on the weekends has helped immensely.

Craig throws his blankets off and climbs out of bed, grabbing a change of clothes before heading to the shower. He's almost to the bathroom when he's intercepted by Ruby, already dressed and showered in spite of her school day starting later.

"Are you going anywhere tonight?" she asks.

Craig shrugs. "Not planning on it. I'll probably just stay home and watch movies."

Ruby rolls her eyes, the family resemblance abundantly clear in that moment. "That's boring. Where's your Halloween spirit?"

"I'll only watch scary movies then."

"You could come with me and Karen. We were just gonna wander the neighborhood in our costumes," she offers.

"I'm not dressing up with you guys," Craig says, readjusting the clothes under his arm.

"Aw come on! We do still need a Buttercup," Ruby gives him her famous puppy eyes, and Craig sighs heavily.

"I'll think about it," he says, and he closes the bathroom door behind him before Ruby can say anything else. He knows she's gonna do whatever it takes to drag him out of the house tonight, and if he's honest with himself, he's not entirely opposed to the idea.

Other than Token and Tweek, Ruby has been the biggest help in the mess Craig currently calls his life. She prods and meddles and goes through his phone a lot, but Craig can honestly say he doesn't know where he'd be right now without her seemingly infinite middle school wisdom. He makes a mental note to ask her later how she got so smart about relationships as he finishes undressing and steps into the shower.

By the time Craig makes it out of the shower and dressed, he's running late and cursing himself for his inability to not completely space out while bathing. Craig makes it to school with only a minute to spare, his boots semi-untied and his bag haphazardly shoved in his locker. He grabs his books for his first class and turns only to run headlong into the one person he didn't want to see today.

"Sorry," Clyde says and stops, his eyes wide, but for once he looks right at Craig for more than a split second. "I- how are you?"

Craig raises an eyebrow and wants to punch himself when he feels the flutter of hope in his chest. Better to quash this now. "Busy," he says shortly, and he pushes past Clyde before he can say anything in response.

He wants to punch himself even more when he feels guilt replacing that hope on his way to class.

Clyde doesn't try to talk to him for the rest of the day much to Craig's relief, but he still can't seem to shake his regret at how he acted earlier. He can't even begin to understand why he is feeling guilty. He starts to wonder if maybe he enjoys Clyde's revolving door act as he watches houses go by through the bus window. Why else would he still care how Clyde is feeling?

He grips his bag tight and trudges off the bus, fighting the urge to glance toward Clyde's house. He starts wondering how different things would be if he had actually made an attempt to strike up a conversation, if Clyde would have tried to make amends, if maybe he could have gotten some real answers for what's been going on between them.

He shakes his head as if trying to shake the thoughts loose and unlocks the front door, dropping his bag and coat in the same spot he always does. He skips his after school snack and heads straight for his room, not really feeling in the mood for eating, but stops in the doorway when he sees a big plastic bag sitting in the middle of his bed. He walks closer and sees a pumpkin shaped sticky note stuck to the top, his lips quirking up slightly in spite of himself. He pulls off the attached note only to find a poorly drawn jack-o-lantern and 'Happy Halloween' written in unmistakable handwriting.

He rolls his eyes in spite of the ever growing smile on his face and reaches into the bag, pulling out a short green dress and a pair of white tights. He rolls his eyes again and pulls out his phone, sending the culprit a quick text.

 _To: rubes_

 _you planned this didn't you?_

He repockets his phone and lays the costume out on the bed, sighing quietly to himself. He knew as soon as their conversation ended this morning that there was no way he wasn't gonna end up in a dress by the end of the night. He stands there for a moment before grabbing his pillow and shaking the pillowcase off of it, figuring that if he's gonna go outside in a tight dress, he might as well get some candy out of it.

Only a few short hours later, he's dressed up and slouching around the neighborhood behind Ruby and Karen, his pillowcase filled with a decent amount of candy. He's just thankful none of the adults have deemed it necessary to question why he is still trick or treating and for the fact that he hasn't run into anyone he knows yet.

Ruby and Karen are talking animatedly about some TV show he doesn't care about as Craig stops to adjust his skirt, cursing it for constantly riding up on him. He tried to tell Ruby it was too short, but she wouldn't hear it, insisting instead that he could still rock it.

"Tucker! Is that you?"

Craig resists the urge to groan dramatically and turns to see Kenny bounding up to him. He's still wearing his orange hoodie and his favorite jeans that have seen better days, the only difference being a mask he's got resting around his neck.

He comes to a stop in front of Craig, his eyes roving over Craig in an obvious display. "Nice outfit."

Craig scowls. "Nobody asked your opinion, McCormick."

Kenny grins, waving at Karen and Ruby. "How's the trick or treating going?" he asks.

Craig shrugs in reply. "Boring as fuck, but I couldn't let those two go out a Powerpuff Girl short, so I did what I had to do."

"And we're all grateful for your sacrifice, Mr. Tucker," Kenny says, saluting him. "Especially since you look hella good in a dress."

Craig snorts and does a brief curtsey, his skirt hiked up a bit higher than necessary just to fuck with Kenny, and he grins when he notices how Kenny keeps discreetly shuffling from one foot to the other.

"So what are you supposed to be?" Craig asks.

"Wolfman," Kenny replies and pulls the mask back up over his face. "Same as every year."

"Couldn't spring for something else this year?"

Kenny shrugs, pulling the mask back down. "I saw Karen looking at that costume and figured I'd buy it for her," he says, and he smiles in Karen's direction, a soft smile Craig knows is reserved only for his little sister. "Besides, I kind of like being a wolfman."

Craig smiles at him and pats his shoulder. "You're a good brother, McCormick. Don't ever let anyone tell you different."

Kenny beams at him and hefts his bag of candy up over his shoulder, trotting on over to Karen and dumping his loot into her bag. He gives his sister a brief hug and Ruby a pat on the head before heading off again, a wolfman disappearing into the night.

As soon as they make it back home, Craig is out of his dress and tights and back into normal clothes, his thighs feeling chafed from the nasty material the tights were made of. He, Ruby, and Karen sit sprawled on the floor of the living room, swapping candy, a horror movie playing in the background.

Craig listens to them talk about school and their friends and boys and decides that he's kind of glad Ruby dragged him out of the house tonight. Especially when he realizes he hasn't once thought about anything to do with Clyde since the night started.

He wants to thank his sister but feels awkward doing it in front of Karen, so he pulls his phone out instead, typing a quick text and hoping she'll understand his meaning.

 _To: rubes_

 _thanks for tonight. i feel a lot better._

Ruby picks up her phone as soon as it buzzes, her eyes roaming over the text quickly before fixing on Craig, and she smiles. Craig smiles back and tosses a couple tootsie pops into her pile, knowing they're her favorite.

She tosses a couple boxes of milkduds into his pile before standing up, announcing that she's going to get some apple cider. She ruffles Craig's hair on her way by him, and Craig laughs, throwing his only king sized candy bars into her and Karen's piles.

The thoughts don't start coming back until the middle of the night when they're all sprawled on the couch, Ruby and Karen fast asleep from a sugar coma on one end and Craig wide awake and in the middle of a Halloween marathon on the other. He sighs quietly and gets up, grabbing his cigarettes off the coffee table and pulling on his boots, not bothering to tie them as he slips out the door, taking his spot on the porch steps and lighting up.

He turns his gaze up toward the sky, watching the stars twinkle brightly and the smoke billowing from his mouth rising up toward them in wisps. He sits there so lost in thought that he startles badly when he finally notices someone standing a couple feet away watching him. He blinks a couple times before Clyde's face finally comes into focus in the dark. He doesn't know if it's the fact that it's late and he hasn't slept, but he can't seem to muster any of the anger he's been feeling toward Clyde now. Instead he nods his head a bit, a quiet "hey" leaving his lips.

Clyde fidgets a bit before moving forward and claiming the spot next to Craig, their knees and elbows brushing as he settles.

"How was the party?" Craig asks for lack of anything better to ask.

Clyde doesn't say anything for a while, and Craig starts wondering if Clyde even heard him. He's about to repeat himself when Clyde finally answers, his voice almost too quiet to hear.

"I broke up with Bebe," he says, and Craig glances over at him, not saying anything in response.

Clyde drums his fingers against his knee as he talks, not waiting for a response. "You were right all along. I can't force myself to be in a relationship with someone I can't love. It's not fair to me, and it isn't fair to her, and I couldn't do anything with her without feeling guilty because every time I was with her, I kept catching myself thinking about you instead," he says in a rush, pausing to take a breath before continuing.

"I don't mean sex either. I haven't had sex with her since we got back together, but like, every time we kissed or hugged or went on dates, I just... I don't know. I kept thinking about how different it would be if I were with you." Clyde stops but doesn't look at Craig, and Craig can't stop watching his fingers twitch on his knee. He wants to grab Clyde's hand but stops himself, sitting quietly instead.

"It's all fucked up isn't it?" Clyde continues, "I always thought something was wrong with me. My relationships never worked out. I could never fall in love with anyone. I always thought I just wasn't able to love people. Like maybe I was all messed up on the inside and couldn't love. How fucked up would that be?" He laughs humorlessly, and Craig feels his stomach drop, thinking about how he's questioned himself over the same things.

"But it was never that. I was always in love. Just not with who I thought I should be in love with," he says, and he finally looks at Craig, his eyes wet but no tears falling yet. "Craig, I've loved you for as long as I can remember. Since elementary probably." He laughs a short laugh, mumbling "so fucked up" under his breath as he turns away again.

Craig swallows heavily, his heart thudding in his chest, but he still can't bring himself to say anything. Clyde looks back at him again, and Craig shivers, just now noticing how cold he is without a jacket. Clyde immediately notices and shrugs out of his Letterman's jacket, draping it over Craig's shoulders.

Clyde sighs. "I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry. None of this was your fault, and you didn't deserve any of it. I understand if you don't want to talk to me anymore, but if you do, I would like to try and be friends again."

He doesn't say anything else after that, and Craig's mind is still reeling too much for him to say anything. He settles instead for wrapping his arm around Clyde's shoulders, pulling him close and relaxing against his side.

Craig wakes late the next day to Ruby poking his cheek and bats her hands away, rolling over.

"Are you gonna sleep all day?" she asks, and Craig feels her climb on the bed next to him.

"Maybe," Craig mumbles, pulling the blanket over his head. He's too exhausted to say much else, having spent nearly the entire night out on the porch with Clyde. He starts thinking back through their conversations, but quickly stops himself, his brain still too tired to try and sort through everything that was said.

"Clyde's here," she says and almost falls off the bed when Craig shoots up suddenly. "I'm just kidding," she quickly adds, laughing when Craig glares at her.

"Fuck off," Craig grumbles and lies back down.

"So it _was_ him you were talking to last night," she says, and Craig groans, really starting to hate the fact that he can never hide anything from her. She's the only one who can compete with Token as the nosiest person in his life.

"So do I have to kick his ass?" she asks.

Craig snorts at that mental image and sits up slowly, shaking his head. "I think we're good for now."

Ruby moves so she's sitting across from him, leaning forward with clear interest on her face. "What did he say?"

Craig rolls his eyes but relays most of the conversation to her anyway, knowing she'll weasel it out of him sometime if he doesn't.

"I always knew there was something weird going on with you two," she says after he's finished, and he makes a noise of disbelief.

"How could you have possibly known that back then? You were in elementary school when we stopped talking."

Ruby just smirks at him and pats his head. "It's simple, dear brother. I know everything," and with that, she gets up and leaves the room.

Craig wants to question her on that but can't help thinking that she's right.

Craig spends the entire morning before school on Monday wondering how things will be different now that he and Clyde are supposedly back on speaking terms. He feels all his anxieties about the whole mess worming their way back into his brain as the bus stops in front of the high school. He brushes past a couple kids on his way inside and makes a beeline for his locker, his nerves starting to get the better of him.

"Hey!"

Craig jumps at the sudden loud noise and nearly drops his books, glancing over at Clyde. "Hey," he says back, his worries evaporating in an instant.

Clyde smiles at him and moves a little closer, leaning against the locker next to Craig's. "How are you?"

"Tired," Craig answers immediately, shutting his locker and turning to face Clyde fully.

"Me too," he says, and pauses, glancing up over Craig's shoulder.

Craig turns and sees Token standing there, a strange look on his face. He looks at Craig, ignoring Clyde for now. "Hey man, are you okay?"

Craig gives Clyde a brief look before moving closer to Token. "I'm fine," he says. "We're all good."

Token gives Clyde the side eye before shrugging. "Alright, but if he hurts you again, I'm kicking his teeth in," he says just loud enough that he knows Clyde will hear. He pats Craig's shoulder before heading off in the other direction.

Craig sighs before turning back to Clyde, who's looking decidedly awkward.

"Well, that makes three people who are gonna kick your ass if you hurt me again, so you know, tread carefully," Craig says and grins so Clyde knows he's kidding.

Clyde smiles back and follows as Craig starts the trek to his first class. "Who are the other two?" he asks, and Craig laughs.

"Ruby and Kenny. I'd probably get a punch in too. Another punch, I mean."

Clyde laughs too and bumps his shoulder. "You're the one I'd be most afraid of. Your punches hurt."

"I don't know, man. My sister can be pretty scary," Craig says and smiles when Clyde laughs harder.

"That's true. She could probably destroy me," he says and stops with Craig outside his first class. "Don't worry, Tucker, your virtue is safe with me."

He smiles before turning toward his own class, and Craig stands there for a moment trying to ignore the acrobatics his stomach has been doing all morning.


	5. Fix Your Mind on a Crystal Day

"Quit bogarting that shit."

Craig forces his eyes to focus again, Token and Tweek's blurred forms slowly taking shape. Token waves a hand in front of his face and chuckles.

"Dude, do I have to cut you off already? We just started," Token sighs like only a mom friend can, prying the joint from between Craig's fingers.

Craig grins a little too wide and sits up straight. "I wasn't gonna tell you, but me and Tweek started before we got here."

Tweek emits a tiny shriek and hugs his knees closer to his chest. "Y-you didn't have to rat me out too!"

Craig laughs loudly while Token shakes his head. "To think I trusted you two. I'm smoking this shit by myself now."

Tweek mutters a couple apologies, but Token just laughs it off. "Dude, I'm not mad. I knew you guys were high the second you stepped in the door," he says, handing the joint over to the blonde in an attempt to calm him down.

Tweek inhales deep, leaning back against Craig's side as he exhales. Craig drapes his arm around Tweek's shoulders but doesn't say anything, his mind too foggy to register anything other than how stupid the movie they're watching is.

"Don't you have any movies that don't suck?" he asks.

"Sorry we aren't all former amateur film directors," Token deadpans, his gaze never leaving the TV screen.

Craig sighs but makes no further comments, sinking down against the cushions. He can see Tweek looking at him out of the corner of his eye but doesn't comment. Craig knows his friends are both wondering the same thing and is surprised they've held out this long. He's spent all day with the both of them and hasn't heard Clyde's name mentioned once.

Not that there would be anything interesting to relay anyway. In spite of their talks about rekindling their friendship, he and Clyde haven't done much talking. Craig recalls a string of awkward text messages and stilted conversations in the hallways before class and wants to cringe.

Apparently having sex with someone before trying to be their friend makes things awkward. Who knew? Not to mention that Clyde had become notorious for his hot and cold behavior when it comes to anything Craig-related, leaving Craig utterly unsure as to where he stands.

Add to that how strange he always feels whenever Clyde is around, and there's a recipe for terrible. Not that anybody needs to know about that last part.

"So, how are things with Clyde?" Token asks almost as soon as Craig's thought process ends, and Craig almost injures himself in his attempt to stop his eyes from rolling.

"So awkward they make me want to crawl out of my skin," Craig says without a pause, dropping his arm back down to his side as Tweek moves out of his personal space.

"R-really? I thought you guys worked things out," Tweek says, handing the joint to Craig. His fingers linger on Craig's a bit longer than necessary, but Craig chalks it up to the weed making him sluggish.

Craig shrugs, bringing the joint to his lips. "We did. Kind of. I haven't fully forgiven him yet." Craig leans over Tweek to pass to Token, a slow and steady stream of smoke flowing out on his exhale, before settling back into the cushions. He tries hard to ignore the incredulous look Token is giving him. "Everything is just awkward now. I feel like having a conversation with him is like pulling teeth. No, pulling teeth from a crocodile."

Token snorts and stubs out the roach in his ash tray. "You're not exactly the easiest person to talk to either, man."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Craig asks but smiles so Token knows he's kidding. Craig knows he's not the best at making conversation. He doesn't really care to be. He's only ever talked to the people he likes, and the list of people he likes has always been small.

"You might as well face facts," Token continues. "Everyone thinks you're an aloof asshole."

Craig snorts, drawing his knees up to his chest. "Well, I am an aloof asshole."

"I don't think you're an asshole," Tweek chimes in, and Craig almost smiles until he continues, "not all the time, at least."

Craig shakes his head. "Thanks for the support, guys."

Tweek's head swivels around so fast Craig is surprised his neck doesnt crack, his expression frantic. "Oh god, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you mad!" he yells, biting his lip so hard it makes Craig wince.

"Tweek, chill. I'm not mad. You guys are right," he says and waits for the blonde to release his poor bottom lip from its toothy prison. "You keep doing that, and your lip is gonna start bleeding."

Tweek's eyes widen as he starts bouncing his leg, his fingers rubbing at his lip. "Oh jesus."

"Here. Use this," Craig says and digs a chapstick out of his pocket. "It tastes nasty, so if you keep wearing it, you won't want to bite your lips anymore."

Craig presses the tube into Tweek's shaking hands and looks the taller blonde in the eyes, giving him a reassuring smile when Tweek finally looks back.

"Maybe y'all should try dating," Token chimes in, making Tweek jump and Craig shake his head.

Craig shoots a glare at Token over Tweek's trembling shoulder. "I don't need your help with my love life, mother."

"I think you do," Token says and crosses his arms over his chest to show he means business. "It can't hurt, right? If anything, it will help you take your mind off Clyde until you can get that shit sorted."

Tweek is looking at him again, but Craig refuses to make eye contact, turning away from both of them to sink back into the couch cushions. The last thing he needs is his friends butting in to his love life. He's also not sure he wants to risk ruining another friendship, not that he thinks Tweek would behave anything like Clyde did, but it's still a risk Craig isn't sure he wants to take.

"Just think about it. You guys have always had a weird connection."

Craig sighs and waves off the rest of Token's oncoming rant. Tweek's been oddly silent so far, but Craig still refuses to look his way. Leave it to the mom friend to make things awkward. Token is almost worse than his actual mother.

They spend the next few hours vegetating on the couch, avoiding anymore conversations about dating and love, before Craig decides to call it a night. His high wore off a while ago, and he's been yawning nonstop through the movie they've been watching. He tries to remember what the movie was called but can't remember a single detail and makes a mental note to bring over his own next time.

Token gives them both brief hugs and waves them out the door, thankfully refraining from giving any more motherly advice.

That doesn't stop the ride home from being awkward to Craig's annoyance. He makes a mental note to beat Token up later as he tries pointedly to ignore how Tweek's been looking at him the whole way back to his family's shop, his constant gaze making Craig itch.

"Do you need something?" Craig finally asks once the staring gets to be too much for him to handle. He spares a brief glance at Tweek before reverting his gaze back to the road.

Tweek doesn't jump or twitch anymore than usual. Craig can see him shrug out of the corner of his eye before he answers. "No, I just want to make sure you're okay."

Craig's grip tightens briefly on the steering wheel before he sighs and sinks down in the seat a little. "I'm fine," he says after a pause. "Why?"

At that, Tweek does start fidgeting, his fingers worrying at the frayed ends of his sweater sleeves. "You've been through a lot this year already," he says in an almost whisper. "Your parents are one thing, but all this stuff with Clyde?"

He pauses for a long time, long enough that Craig starts to think he isn't going to continue. Craig is about to say something in reply when Tweek speaks again, his voice louder.

"I just don't get it, man. I don't know why he would do all that stuff to you, and I don't get why you keep letting him do it."

Craig immediately pulls over, a sour look on his face that under normal circumstances he would feel bad aiming Tweek's way. If he's honest, he does still feel a jab of guilt at the borderline terrified expression Tweek's now sporting.

"Look, you're my friend and all, but why I do the things I do is none of your business," Craig spits.

He expects Tweek to start fidgeting all over again, but all he does is give a resigned sigh and turn his gaze toward his lap. "I'm sorry, Craig," he says, and if Craig didn't feel guilty before, he does now. He can't stand having any sort of disagreement with Tweek for this reason. Telling him off is like yelling at a puppy.

"I just meant," he says and pauses, his hands shaking slightly where they rest on his knees. "I just think you deserve better."

Craig is stunned and almost forgets to reply, too busy watching Tweek chew on his lip to think of anything important enough to answer with. He settles for putting his truck in drive and pulling back on the road, his gaze straight ahead and his mind nearly blank. "Don't forget about that chapstick," he says almost as an afterthought and spends the rest of the ride in silence.

It's only when he's pulling up in front of the coffee shop that he thinks of something to say in response. Tweek is still fidgeting in the passenger seat when Craig turns toward him, one elbow draped on top of the steering wheel.

"You said you think I deserve better," he begins and watches as Tweek's wide-eyed gaze flies over to him. "Who do you think would be better then?"

Tweek's shaking starts up with renewed strength, his expression stuck in a look of surprise. He stays silent, and Craig starts to feel bad all over again for putting him on the spot.

"You, maybe?" Craig asks and is immediately surprised by his own boldness.

Tweek looks over at him again, but this time the surprised look is gone, replaced by a hard stare. "I would treat you better than him, that's for sure."

Craig almost chokes on his own spit. He's never heard Tweek say something so confidently before. He'd be lying if he said he didn't like it.

It takes him a second longer than it should for him to recover enough to respond. "Alright. Next weekend then. Take me on a date."

Tweek doesn't fidget at all, he just nods, a small smile on his face. "I'll see you," he says and gives Craig a hug before climbing out of the truck. Craig hangs around until he sees Tweek dig out his key and unlock the door. The blonde turns to wave him off then disappears into the shop, and Craig pulls away from the curb, his thoughts racing all over again.

Craig falls asleep as soon as he makes it into his bed but still doesn't wake up until late afternoon, a finger prodding his cheek and the smell of strawberries wafting into his nose.

He pulls the blanket up higher, mumbling a gravelly "What do you want, Ruby?" his eyes remaining stubbornly shut against the mid afternoon sun.

He hears Ruby sigh and feels her plop heavily onto his legs but is still too groggy to make any effort to kick her off.

"Mom wants to know when you're planning on getting up," she says. Craig can hear her grab his phone off the bed, the sound of the unlock screen seeming louder than normal.

"Why?"

"She wants us all to do something together today. You know, as a family." Craig can hear the sarcasm in her voice as clear as the sounds of her tapping away on his phone. He doesn't even pause to wonder what she's doing with it.

Craig sighs heavily and opens his eyes, throwing the blankets back. "Like what?"

Ruby continues to look down at his phone screen as she answers. "You'll have to ask her," she says and tosses his phone back to him. He chooses not to look at it and sets it on his night stand instead, rubbing his face with his hand.

"Tell her I'll be up in a bit," he says, his voice still rough with sleep.

Ruby takes her time getting off the bed, being sure to lean heavily on his knee caps before slinking out of the room. Hopefully to go act like a pest elsewhere.

Craig stretches but makes no effort to get up, spending a few extra minutes staring up at the ceiling. He's about to attempt rolling out of bed when his door opens again, his mom standing in the doorway bundled up in her winter best.

She stands there for a moment before walking to the bed, taking a seat in Ruby's vacated spot but thankfully missing Craig's legs. Craig sits up against his pillows and smiles briefly for her benefit.

She smiles back and rests a hand on his knee, rubbing gently in a way that brings Craig back to his childhood when things were simpler and his mom used to do this more than just every once in a while.

"You feeling up to going out today?" she asks after a moment, her voice for once lacking the wilted tone Craig has gotten used to.

"What do you have planned?" he asks, a feeling of nervousness kicking in when her only response is a grin.

"Come on. It's a surprise!" she says and waltzes back out of his room.

Craig wants to feel annoyed about being woken up on a Saturday afternoon for "family bonding time," but instead he smiles, getting out of bed and scouting out the floor for some cleanish clothes.

It's not long before his family is reunited by the front door, all of them bundled up in coats, scarves, and gloves. Craig's mood fell a bit when he realized the only gloves he could find were the ones Clyde gave to him months ago, but he's wearing them anyway, knowing that he'll find the gloves to be preferable to the biting cold. He'll just have to return them next chance he gets.

His mom piles them all in the car and turns the radio up to discourage Craig and Ruby from asking questions, her loud and surprisingly on-key singing filling the car.

Neither of them have guessed where they're going by the time Laura pulls the car into the parking lot, next to a building topped with bright red lettering spelling out the local skating rink.

Laura turns the car off without a word, not noticing the looks Craig and Ruby are exchanging in the back seat. Grabbing her bag, she gets out of the car, waiting patiently for her beloved children to clamber out after, their displeasure obvious in their slouched shoulders and less than enthusiastic expressions.

Refusing to let their attitudes weigh down the night, and almost positive in her idea that a night of skating will be fun for everyone, she starts making her way to the entrance, knowing Craig and Ruby will go along with it.

Later in the night, Ruby has Craig's arm in hers as they swipe through the numerous pictures their mom had taken over the course of their skating venture. Ruby's laughter grows with each passing picture while Craig scowls at most of them.

"Okay, why am I on my ass in like every single one of these?" he asks, turning back to look at his mom who's struggling to hide a grin behind the rim of her mug.

"I worked with what I had," she says with a shrug. "You did spend a good ninety percent of your time falling down."

Both her and Ruby break out into peals of laughter while Craig crosses his arms, trying in vain to hide the oncoming mirth he's feeling in response.

Ruby keeps swiping, her laughter spiking at Craig's more hilarious facial expressions. Craig was right, nearly every picture his mom took contains him either having fallen down or in the process of it. Ruby seems to think the ones where he's hidden in the background behind what was supposed to be a nice portrait of herself are the funniest.

Laura nudges her way in between them and reaches for her phone, swiping through a few pictures before handing it back to Ruby. "That one's my favorite," she says and pulls Craig against her side.

Craig doesn't protest like he normally would, dropping his head against her shoulder as he looks the picture over. His and Ruby's smiling faces look back at him, their arms looped around each other. It's probably the only picture in the bunch where Craig is standing and also the happiest he's looked in a long time. He can't help mirroring his photo self's expression as his mom swipes through a few more photos.

It's not long after Ruby starts yawning that she announces she's going to bed. She makes sure to hug her mom and even stops to give Craig a tight hug, that he tries to squirm out of but still, before disappearing upstairs.

"Are you going to stay up for a while?" Laura asks, tucking her phone away in her jacket.

"Yeah, probably."

She takes a seat on the couch and pats the spot next to her. "Good, you can sit here with me then."

Craig takes the indicated seat, drawing his knees up and looping his arms around them. They're both silent for a while, but not in a way that makes Craig uncomfortable. He'd be lying if he said he didn't have fun tonight, and he's more grateful than he can express that his mom has broken out of her funk.

He never liked being touchy-feely or expressing his emotions in any way as a child, even with his parents. But now, sitting here on the couch with his mom smiling at him and attempting to tuck his hair behind his ear, he can safely say he's found a new appreciation for it.

Craig releases his knees and leans over to wrap his arms around his mom, hugging her tighter than he ever has in his life. He hears her quiet chuckle in his ear and feels her steady hand rubbing his back and lets his eyes slip shut.

"Well, this is a surprise," she says and turns her head to kiss his temple. "And it only took eighteen years for me to get a hug out of you."

Craig snorts, a smile spreading on his face that he quickly hides in her shoulder. A flood of thoughts and feelings and things he wants to say to her fills his mind, but he stays silent, content to just stay like this a while.

"Is everything okay?" his mom asks after a long period of silence. Craig recognizes it as an invitation to spill any problems he's been having just like the first time, but Craig just nods, not sure where to begin and not even sure he really wants to begin at all.

Besides, there's always tomorrow.


	6. If You Don't Want Me, Set Me Free

"Clyde! Come down here a minute!"

Clyde sighs from where he's perched on the edge of his bed, his gaze aimed toward the Tucker house. He's been sitting for the better part of an hour waiting for... something. He's not sure what that something is. He's not sure about a lot of things anymore, and the more he thinks about it, the worse he feels.

He hasn't had a real conversation with Craig since Halloween night over a month ago. Not that he hasn't tried, but every attempt has turned stiff and awkward and Clyde can't figure out why. That's a lie. He knows why, he just can't seem to admit it all to himself or explain it all to Craig. He tried all those months ago with a hastily written letter left on Craig's dresser, but he knows that letter didn't even scratch the surface, nor did it make amends for all the terrible things Clyde did to him.

Clyde sighs again, his stomach clenching like it always does when he thinks about Craig too much, and slides off his bed. He's halfway down the stairs when his dad appears at the bottom, drying a dish while he waits.

"There you are. I was about to come up and get you," he says and walks back to the kitchen.

Clyde pads after him, hoping silently his dad isn't about to ask him to shovel the sidewalks. He stands by the counter and waits for his dad to speak, watching as he slowly dries more dishes and stacks them in the cupboard. He's starting to get antsy when his dad finally breaks the silence.

"What happened to that girlfriend of yours? I haven't seen her around."

Clyde doesn't say anything for a moment, moving to his dad's side so he can help wash. "We broke up a while ago."

His dad hums and keeps drying. "I always liked her. You two seemed like you got along well, and she was always polite."

Clyde snorts as he fondly reminisces on the days he spent with Bebe, her potty mouth worse than anyone else he knows. Everyone except Craig that is. He then starts thinking about how his dad would react if he were dating Craig instead and wants to laugh even more. He knows his dad definitely wouldn't use the word "polite" to describe Craig.

"What's so funny?" his dad asks, gesturing for Clyde to just stack up the rest of the wet dishes.

"Nothing," Clyde says and looks out the kitchen window, his heart jumping when he sees Craig has finally wandered outside with a snow shovel.

"Well, I'm sure you'll find another girlfriend soon," his dad continues, but Clyde is barely listening now. All of his attention is on Craig. "Donovan men never stay single for very long."

Clyde finally turns from the window and waves off the rest of his dad's speech. "Yeah, uh, do you want me to shovel the driveway?" Clyde asks and hopes the question isn't too suspicious.

His dad looks at him with raised eyebrows. "You're offering to shovel the driveway? Are you coming down with something?" he asks and steps closer to try and feel Clyde's forehead.

Clyde dodges his arm and shrugs. "I know you'll ask me to do it eventually, so I might as well do it now."

His dad doesn't look like he buys it, but he shrugs. "Well, it is good to see you take initiative in something."

Clyde doesn't wait for him to say anything else and bolts up the stairs to grab warmer clothes. He pulls on his coat and hat and some extra socks but can't find his gloves after a frenzied search. He sighs heavily when he remembers that they've been missing for a few months and makes a mental note to go buy a new pair as he bounds down the stairs and pulls on his boots. He speeds out into the biting air and to the garage door, fighting to keep his gaze away from the Tucker's yard.

Only once he's grabbed the snow shovel and started on the driveway does he look over. Craig has his back to him, but Clyde knows it won't be long before he's spotted. He slowly works up a rhythm, tossing the snow piles into the yard, as he waits for Craig to look.

But he waits and waits and has half the driveway done, and Craig still hasn't turned around. Clyde debates on making an obnoxious noise or maybe even calling out to him, but he isn't sure Craig would even want to talk to him if he knew Clyde were there.

Another twenty minutes pass and Craig is standing still now, soft plumes of smoke curling up into the air above his head. Clyde starts thinking about that night on Token's porch trying to learn how to make smoke rings and everything that happened after and before he knows it, he's dropped the shovel into the snow and started walking, his feet carrying him to Craig before his brain can catch up.

Once his brain does catch up, his stomach tightens uncomfortably. He debates on just turning tail and hauling it back to his own driveway, but Craig must have heard his crunching footsteps as he is now facing Clyde, an eyebrow raised and his shovel balanced in the crook of his arm.

Clyde stands there and stares, his brain screaming at him to "run, go, flee you fool." He's frozen, not sure what he should say or how to begin to say all the things he wants to say to Craig. All the things he has wanted to say to him for a long time.

"Hey Clyde," Craig says after a moment and digs his cigarettes out of his back pocket, offering one to Clyde. Clyde takes it and lets Craig light it for him, his brain still on autopilot.

Craig lights his own and gestures for Clyde to follow him. Clyde does. He takes shallow drags off his cigarette and follows Craig into his garage, taking a seat in one of the plastic chairs left out.

"Aren't your hands cold?" Craig asks, and Clyde almost doesn't realize what he's talking about until he glances down at them. His fingernails are blue and his skin is dry and chapped. He hadn't noticed before now.

"I couldn't find my gloves," he says and clears his throat. He takes another drag and watches as the exhaled smoke drifts up to the ceiling. Anything to keep his gaze off of Craig.

"Oh," Craig says, and Clyde looks at him anyway. "That's because I have them."

Clyde looks down at Craig's hands and sees the familiar gloves, suddenly remembering that he had loaned them to Craig during Token's party. Clyde almost wants to laugh at the similarities between then and now.

"You can have them back. I kept forgetting to give them to you," Craig says and sticks his cigarette between his lips so he can pull the gloves off.

Clyde shakes his head, waving a hand at him. "No, I gave them to you," he says. "You can keep them."

Craig looks unsure but pulls them back on anyway. "Thanks," he says and smiles in a way that makes Clyde's stomach knot.

"How have you been?" Clyde asks to distract from his screwed up feelings.

"Good," Craig answers and stuffs his cigarette butt in an old coffee ground container.

"That's a broad answer," Clyde responds and grins.

Craig snorts and smiles a little wider. "You get what you give."

Clyde laughs and tries to ignore the overwhelming urge he feels to kiss Craig again. He hands Craig his cigarette butt and ignores how his heart races when their fingers brush. He starts wondering when he'll get better at ignoring these things.

"How have you been?" Craig asks.

"I've been okay. My dad keeps asking about Bebe though," Clyde says and wonders why he even felt the need to bring that up.

"What, does he miss his future daughter-in-law already?" Craig asks, and Clyde can almost hear his eyes rolling in the way he says it.

"She was never going to be his daughter-in-law," Clyde says and glares when Craig responds with laughter.

"Oh yeah right. You know as well as I do that you would have married her right out of high school if I hadn't been there to fuck it up."

"You didn't fuck anything up," Clyde whispers and Craig pauses in his ensuing mirth, quickly sobering.

"Do you want to come inside? It's freezing out here," Craig says and stands before Clyde can answer. Clyde follows him to the front door without a word, doing his best to knock the excess snow off his boots.

He doesn't say anything as they shed their coats and boots and head up to Craig's room, the entire house silent save for the creaking stairs. Craig plops down on his bed, pulling his feet up under himself. He gestures for Clyde to sit too, and he does, maintaining some distance.

Clyde watches Craig pick at his nails for a few minutes before Craig speaks again.

"What's been going on with you?" he asks, and Clyde looks at him, not sure how to answer. "You haven't really been all there lately."

Clyde sighs and turns, stretching his legs out across the bed. "I know, I've just got a lot of stuff I need to figure out."

Craig is looking back at him and gives a quiet hum in response. "Anything you need help with?"

Clyde smiles at him but shakes his head. "No, it's something I should figure out on my own."

"If you say so," Craig says and shrugs, turning to mirror Clyde's posture from the other side of the bed.

"How are Token and Tweek?" Clyde asks as a means of changing topics.

Craig's gone back to picking at his nails, making Clyde wonder if it's a nervous habit. "They're good. Tweek's still paranoid about everything and Token's still a nagging mother."

Clyde smiles to himself. "I miss them," he says. "I miss all of you."

Craig looks up at him, smiling back. Clyde really wants to hug him.

"We miss you too. The group dynamic just isn't the same without you," Craig says, and Clyde really does hug him this time without pausing to over think it.

Craig hugs back with only a little hesitation but quickly shoves Clyde off with a laugh.

"Okay, that's enough of that," he says and Clyde laughs with him before moving in for another hug.

"Are you sure? Because I think you could use another," he says, trying hard to fight down his laughter at Craig's look of mock terror.

"No get away!" Craig yells and manages to dodge under Clyde's oncoming arms. Clyde darts around the room trying to catch him for a while before he manages to pin him on the bed, the "hug" quickly turning into a brief wrestling match.

Clyde, being the athlete he is, manages to get Craig in a headlock before Craig finally stops struggling.

"I give!" he says and pushes at Clyde's chest, muffled laughter bubbling up from under Clyde's arm.

Clyde releases him and stands up, his arms raised in victory as he pretends to relish in Craig's fake cheering.

"Alright, no need to rub it in," Craig says and laughs.

Clyde plops back on the bed and smiles at Craig again, feeling winded but good for once.

"I really do miss this, you know," Craig says and Clyde looks back at him, the smile gone now. "Spending time with you, I mean."

He's back to picking at his nails, but Clyde's mind is now reeling, and he can't stop staring. He wants to say something, but he leans in instead, his lips finding Craig's before his brain can even catch up.

He feels Craig's lips move against his for a split second before he's roughly pushed away. Craig is refusing to look at him now. It takes everything Clyde has to not flee like a coward.

"Why did you do that?"

Clyde stares down at Craig's bedspread, a dark blue littered with white stars. He starts counting them in his head.

He's up to ten when Craig's hand lands on his shoulder, and he's forced to look up.

"I can't do this, Clyde. I don't know what you want from me, and I don't think you do either," Craig says, and Clyde is sure his heart and stomach have switched places.

He starts to reply but Craig holds up a hand to stop him.

"I'm going on a date with Tweek tonight. I didn't expect you to know that, but you should know now," he says, and Clyde starts to feel sick to his stomach.

He immediately feels irrational anger boiling in his gut, but he manages to stifle it. "I'm sorry," he says, his head down to avoid meeting Craig's gaze. He doesn't want to see how Craig must be looking at him now.

He stands before Craig can say anything else and hurries toward the stairs, ignoring Craig when he tries to call out for him. He doesn't know what the hell he was thinking. Of course Craig would move on eventually. He would be an idiot not to.

Clyde is mortified when he feels the burning start of tears pooling in his eyes and pulls his outerwear back on with record speed, bolting through the front door and back out into the cold. He only lets a quiet sob escape once he's back in his own house, his back pressed against the front door. He can hear his dad shuffling around in the kitchen still as he bounds up the stairs, hurrying to get to his room before his dad can see and start asking questions.

He's lying face down in bed an hour later wondering how his life would be if he weren't such a coward when a quiet knock sounds on his door. The door clicks open without a reply, and his dad walks in.

"What happened, son? You only did half the driveway."

Clyde shrugs as best he can. "I wasn't feeling well," he says and cringes at how raspy his voice sounds.

He feels the bed dip next to him but keeps his face pressed into the pillow. It's only when he feels his dad's hand rubbing his back that he turns his head, his dad's worried gaze the first thing he sees.

"What's wrong? You haven't been yourself lately."

Clyde doesn't say anything for a while, not entirely sure what to say.

"Is it girl troubles?"

Clyde wants to roll his eyes but refrains. His dad always thinks it's about a girl every time he's upset about something. If only he knew the truth.

"I guess you could say that," Clyde responds after a moment.

His dad sighs and pats his back once before withdrawing his hand. "What is the problem exactly?"

Clyde sits up, turning to press his back against the headboard. "I'm in love with this person, but I already messed everything up and now they're dating someone else, and I'm angry about it, but I know I have no right to be."

His dad is giving him an odd look once he finishes but places a hand on his shoulder, a soft smile taking the place of the look from before. "If this person has already moved on, then it's best if you do the same. Especially if you've already messed things up like you said."

Clyde's shoulders droop, and he nods, his gaze fixed on the floor.

"If you are meant to be with this person, it will happen in due time. There's no use trying to force these things," he says and brushes Clyde's hair back.

Clyde nods and manages a small smile for his benefit. He waits for his dad to leave before scooting to the window, looking out past the Tucker house this time as he starts wondering about the future.


	7. Every Inch of Space in My Heart

Craig watches Clyde hurry back to his own house from his window. Clyde's reaction to the upcoming date plays on repeat in Craig's mind, the brief flash of anger in his eyes only serving to make Craig angry as well. What right does Clyde even have to be mad at him? He doesn't have a stake in this game. If he pulled his head out of his ass long enough then maybe... Craig doesn't know. He doesn't even want to finish that thought.

His stomach is knotted up, and his lips are still tingling where Clyde's had been only a few minutes ago. He starts to bring his hand up to his lips but stops himself. He's no anime schoolgirl, and this ain't some teen romance novel. Craig just hopes his date with Tweek will be enough to finally take his mind off everything.

His phone buzzes, a brief text from Tweek lighting up the screen. He wants to know if Craig is still up for tonight and if they can meet at seven. Craig answers on autopilot, his gaze still fixed on Clyde's house.

His mind shouts all sorts of things at him. He should go over there, storm in, and demand to know what Clyde's problem is. He should find out what exactly it is that Clyde wants from him, and why he can't seem to make up his mind one way or the other. He should ask him why it is that he can't seem to get Clyde off his mind ever since this whole thing started, why the feel of his lips haunts him for so long. He knows he won't do any of these things, he's too much of a coward, and he's not even sure he wants all the answers in the first place.

His phone buzzes again, his screen lighting up and finally startling him out of his thoughts. He glances down, his eyes drifting over the words.

 _From: tweekers_

 _Great! I'll come pick you up at seven! You should dress nice!_

Craig's about to reply when his phone buzzes again, a new message replacing the first.

 _From: tweekers_

 _I mean you can wear whatever you want! I'm sure you'll look great no matter what! You always look pretty!_

 _From: tweekers_

 _Wait that's not what I meant! Don't read that last text!_

Craig laughs at Tweek's rapid fire texting. The boy has problems. Very endearing problems. He decides to text back quickly before Tweek has a stroke.

 _To: tweekers_

 _dude chill. i know what you meant. ill dress nice dont worry. thanks for calling me pretty btw_

Craig smiles to himself, able to picture clearly in his mind the look that's most likely on Tweek's face right now. That adorable mix of panic and embarrassment that leaves his cheeks flushed and his eyes wide as saucers. Craig only wishes he could be there to see it. Instead, he puts his phone on its charger and grabs some clothes, heading for the shower to get ready for the night.

Craig wastes as much time as he possibly can taking a shower and picking an outfit but still manages to have nearly an hour left before Tweek is supposed to arrive. He looks in the mirror one more time, messing with his signature hat a little before taking it off.

His hair is a shaggy mess of jet black in dire need of a cut. His mom used to meticulously take care of his hair for him, keeping it perfectly cut and combed in spite of the hat he wore at all times. Eventually he got too old for his mom to brush his hair for him, but he was never very good at keeping up on it himself.

He's about to pull his hat back on but pauses, worrying at the fabric before setting it down on his desk. He leaves his room and carries himself down the hall to Ruby's room, knocking on the door before he can change his mind.

Ruby answers not even a second later, already dressed in her pajamas. "What's up?"

"I need some help with my hair," Craig says, fidgeting with his sleeves. He's having trouble getting used to the long sleeved button up he's wearing, wishing he could change back into his signature hoodie or sweater.

Ruby looks him up and down and gestures for him to come inside. "Don't you look fancy," she says in a way that isn't the least bit mocking. She pulls out her desk chair and gestures for him to sit. "You look good," she adds and grabs a comb.

Craig takes a seat and tries not to look in the mirror too much. He's never been self-conscious by any means, but something about staring at his reflection for too long unsettles him.

Ruby starts by running her fingers through his hair, making a noise when they get caught. "When's the last time you brushed your hair?"

Craig shrugs, wincing when she drags the comb through a tough knot. Ruby tuts at him but doesn't say anything else, focusing her attention on getting all the snarls out of his hair.

It isn't long before his hair is tangle free. Ruby is moving his bangs around with her fingers, trying to decide which way to let them fall. "You should let me cut your hair," she says, rolling her eyes at Craig's sputters.

"No way. Remember what happened last time I let you near my hair with scissors?"

"To be fair, I was six. I've gotten a lot better since then!"

Craig glances at the clock. Forty five minutes left. He sighs. "Fine, but if you make me look stupid, I'm reading your diary to everyone."

Ruby smiles and presses her hand over her heart. "I swear I won't make you look stupid," she says and hurries out of the room to grab her supplies.

She comes back a moment later with a towel which she wraps around Craig's shoulders, her scissors, and a spray bottle, which she then begins spraying over Craig's hair with no warning.

Craig fights back the shiver wanting to run through him and keeps his eyes firmly shut as Ruby starts cutting. He supposes if she fucks it up too badly, he can just wear his hat on the date. He doubts Tweek would care.

His nose is itching horribly by the time Ruby starts brushing off his face. "All done," she announces and pulls the towel off him.

Craig blinks his eyes open, squinting while they readjust to the light. His reflection stares back at him. His hair. It isn't bad, he's surprised to find. It looks good actually. A lot shorter and better styled than before.

"Wow," is all he says, running his fingers through his bangs. They're short, no longer able to hang in his eyes and just skimming the top of his eyebrows.

"Do you like it?" Ruby asks, already wheeling the vacuum into her room.

"Yeah," Craig says, pulling his eyes away from his reflection to look back at his sister. "Thanks, Ruby."

Ruby smiles at him and shoos him out of the chair. "Don't mention it, big brother."

She starts up the vacuum before Craig can say anything else. Craig just smiles and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.

He finishes getting ready with just a minute to spare, settling himself on the couch to wait. He feels strange leaving the house without his hat but tries not to think about it too much. He wants this date to be special, and he knows it won't be if he ends up getting too hung up on old insecurities.

A light knock on the door gains his attention, and he stands, grabbing his coat off the hook as he pulls the door open.

Tweek is standing on the other side in a green button up, a tie pulled loosely around his neck. He managed to do up the buttons on his shirt correctly, Craig notices. His tie is tied sloppily, but he still manages to look nothing short of endearing.

Tweek is looking at him, a blush on his cheeks, and holds out a hand. "Your hair," he says, and Craig is suddenly overcome with anxiety, his hand darting up to mess with it before he can stop himself. "Your hair looks beautiful," he finishes, and Craig smiles, dropping his hand down to take Tweek's instead.

Tweek leads him to the car, his parents' old beat-up station wagon, and opens the door for him, shutting it for him too once he's settled. Craig watches Tweek cross the front of the car, the redness on his cheeks lighting up more under the glare of the headlights. Craig smiles to himself, glad for once that things seem to be going well.

Tweek gets in the car and buckles his seatbelt. He keeps fidgeting with his clothes and hair before he pulls away from the curb.

"Where are you taking me?" Craig asks once they've bypassed South Park's admittedly abysmal downtown.

"It's a surprise," Tweek answers and keeps driving straight through town.

Craig doesn't say anything else after that. He listens to the music on the radio, an old, slow song, and watches Tweek drive. He keeps his gaze locked on the road, his hands set perfectly on the steering wheel. Craig keeps looking down at his tie. He wants to fix it but knows it would be disastrous to try while Tweek is still driving. He'll just have to do it once they stop.

Craig gets so lost in thought that he almost doesn't notice when Tweek pulls up in front of a restaurant. He glances around at the surrounding area and realizes that Tweek has driven them all the way to North Park. He takes in the fancy decor and landscaping surrounding the restaurant and suddenly feels completely underdressed.

"Is this okay?" Tweek asks. He must have taken Craig's silence as a negative reaction.

Craig looks back at him and smiles. "It'll be the fanciest dinner I've ever eaten," he says and leans across the console. "Come here."

Tweek stares at him, wide-eyed, a bright blush overtaking his face. He sits frozen as Craig takes hold of his tie and loosens it.

"Let me fix this for you," Craig says, and Tweek releases a breath, relaxing slightly. Craig tries not to laugh as he sets to work retying the tie. He pulls the knot up to Tweek's throat and notices how he shivers when Craig's knuckles brush his neck. He looks Tweek in the eye. The blush is still there, but he maintains eye contact. Craig feels something building, something drawing him closer.

Instead, he pulls away and unbuckles his seatbelt. "All better," he says.

Tweek unbuckles his own belt, quietly thanking Craig before getting out of the car. The moment is thoroughly broken, but Craig still feels a racing in his chest and a bubbling in his stomach as Tweek crosses to his side and opens the door for him.

He stands there a moment, the lights from the restaurant shining behind and around him as he reaches for Craig's hand. His hair is lit up in an almost ethereal glow that makes Craig's breath catch in his throat. He helps Craig out of the car, leads him to the restaurant doors. He's a perfect gentleman the whole way, holding open doors, pulling out chairs. He even has a reservation. Craig is almost overwhelmed by it all.

He can't remember anyone ever doing anything so nice for him. He can't remember anyone ever trying so hard just for a date with him. Hell, he can't even remember any other time he's been taken on a proper date. Kenny didn't exactly count considering most of their "dates" consisted of them melded together anywhere they could find some privacy, his mouth on Kenny sprawled on the musty mattress in his room, Kenny's fingers in his hair tangled up in the back of Craig's truck. And Clyde... well, Clyde was Clyde.

Craig looks across the table at Tweek. His eyes are still locked on the menu. Craig looks him up and down, the messy hair he had tried and failed to tame, the slightly open collar of his shirt.

Craig wonders what it would be like to try and do any of the things he had done with Kenny with Tweek instead. He would probably taste like coffee. He already smells like it most days. He wonders what it would take to get Tweek to touch him, if he would shiver and shake like he does when he's nervous.

He starts to imagine what it would be like, Tweek's head between his knees. He's horrified when imaginary Tweek all too quickly turns into Clyde instead.

Craig squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. He reaches up to tug his hat down and nearly panics when he remembers it isn't there.

"Craig?"

Craig freezes and slowly opens his eyes. Tweek's looking back at him, his gaze full of concern.

"Are you okay?" he asks, and Craig is suddenly flooded with guilt. Here is someone who's only ever been nice to him, who checked up on him when he was feeling down, who went out of his way to take him out on the nicest, maybe even the only, date he's ever been on, and Craig still has his mind on someone else.

Tweek reaches across the table and takes his hand, squeezing gently. "Do you want to leave? We can go somewhere else."

Craig looks at their joined hands then back at Tweek. He squeezes Tweek's hand and smiles. "No, this is great," he says and feels slightly better when Tweek seems to instantly relax. "Thank you," he adds because really he should be thanking him, if not for the date, then at least for being a good friend to him all these years.

Tweek gives a small smile in return then looks back at his menu, his hand still in Craig's as his eyes trail over the dinner specials. "Do you know what you're getting?"

Craig flips open his menu and balks at the prices of most of the entrees. "We're splitting the bill, right?" he asks, and Tweek laughs.

"I can pay."

Craig shakes his head immediately. "No way, dude. This shit is expensive, and technically I asked you out first. So if anyone's paying, it will be me," he argues then internally cringes as he remembers the very meager sum he has in his bank account.

Tweek seems to notice the look on his face and laughs. "We can split the bill, then," he says. "I think I'm gonna get the," he pauses and pulls the menu close to his face, squinting slightly, "boo-la-bays?"

Craig gives him a bemused look then picks up his own menu, trying to find what Tweek is talking about.

"I think I pronounced it wrong," Tweek murmurs, muttering the word under his breath a couple times and shaking his head each time.

Craig scans the list of nigh unpronounceable words before coming across the one Tweek must be butchering. _Bouillabaisse_. Huh, Craig isn't even sure how he would begin to pronounce that word. French is lost on him.

The waiter comes up to take their orders and looks none too pleased with Craig's purposeful butchering of filet mignon, but Tweek stifles a laugh behind his hand at his horrible faux French accent, so he counts it as a win.

In spite of their inability to pronounce the food items, they come out perfectly, and before Craig knows it, they've both finished their meals and paid their bills.

They're back in the Tweaks' station wagon, the heat turned up and soft music filtering through the speakers. Craig is feeling relaxed and full from the food. He watches the scenery fly past the window as they sit in comfortable silence.

He's more thankful for what Tweek has done for him tonight then he can rightfully express. He looks across the console at him. Tweek is too busy watching the road and doesn't notice when Craig slowly reaches over and places a hand on his arm.

He jumps slightly but spares Craig a small smile before turning forward again.

"Thank you," Craig says before withdrawing his hand. Tweek looks confused but doesn't comment. Instead he places his hand on the center console, palm up, and smiles when Craig takes it.

Tweek pulls up to the end of the driveway and turns the car off, unbuckling his belt and turning in his seat to face Craig. Craig does the same from his side, trying hard to stop his hands from fidgeting. He knows that on any other date, this would be the moment leading up to the big kiss. Tweek doesn't lean in though, he smiles at Craig and opens his door, climbing out of the car before Craig can say anything.

Craig watches him cross the front of the car, unable to decide whether or not he's disappointed. Tweek opens Craig's door for him again and takes his hand to help him up before Craig can think about it too much. He says nothing as they walk up the driveway to Craig's front door, hands still clasped.

"I had a lot of fun tonight," Tweek says once they've come to a stop on the front stoop.

Craig squeezes his hand then drops it, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "I did too. Thanks for dinner," he says. "Thanks for everything, I mean. It was all great."

Craig fidgets with his coat sleeves, wishing more than he has the whole night that he had his hat on right now. He's feeling decidedly awkward, and he's not sure why.

Tweek doesn't look like he's faring much better. He keeps shuffling from one foot to the other with a look on his face like he has something to say but doesn't know how to say it.

"Well, uh, good night!" he says and Craig frowns slightly, reaching behind himself to grasp the doorknob.

"Good night," Craig says in return and turns to go inside.

"Craig wait!"

Craig turns back, hand still poised on the doorknob, and finds Tweek standing a hairsbreadth away. His hand finds Craig's arm as he steps even closer, his eyes slipping shut.

Their lips meet and Craig expects fireworks, butterflies, something that will say to him yes, yes, this right here, this is love. Instead he feels nothing. No floating, no knots in his stomach, no short circuiting in his brain. All he feels is a gentle hand on his arm and a sinking in his stomach.

He pulls away and takes a small step backward, his eyes meeting Tweek's as his slowly open. He has an unreadable look on his face that Craig isn't quite sure what to make of.

Tweek is quiet for a minute, fidgeting with the sleeves of his coat. He turns his gaze downward before he finally speaks.

"I didn't feel anything," he says, and he looks nervous, almost as if he's scared of hurting Craig's feelings, but all Craig does is laugh, startling Tweek into looking up at him.

"I didn't either," Craig says, and Tweek laughs with him.

They both stand there in the harsh glow of the porch light laughing hysterically over their failed date before Tweek finally sobers up and clears his throat, a small smile still on his face.

"I still had a lot of fun. We should do this again sometime. As just friends, I mean!" he says.

Craig nods in agreement. "I'd like that."

He doesn't protest when Tweek leans in for a brief hug, his lips pressing to Craig's cheek before he pulls away one last time. He waves as he heads back to his car, and Craig smiles and waves in return even as his heart begins to feel heavy.


	8. Watch Out, the World's Behind You

Craig is feeling thoroughly depressed by the time he makes it inside, his coat and gloves tossed carelessly on the floor by his boots.

"How was your date?"

Craig jumps slightly, just now noticing that Ruby has been perched on the couch the entire time. He shrugs in reply and moves to join her, flopping down heavily.

"That bad?" she says, and she clicks her tongue in a way that reminds Craig too much of their mother.

"No, I just wanted it all to work out so bad, I didn't really think about what would happen if the feelings weren't there," he sighs, rubbing his face roughly.

He lets his arms fall to his sides, his gaze on the ceiling, and he starts thinking that maybe love just isn't in the cards for him, that maybe he really is defective and incapable of feeling it for anyone.

"How do you know there weren't any feelings?"

Craig shrugs. "I didn't feel anything when I kissed him."

"So, what do you feel when you kiss Clyde then?" Ruby asks.

Craig sighs and stays silent for a while, not liking where the conversation is going anymore.

"I'm gonna guess that means something," she says and pats his knee. "Maybe you should start thinking about what that might mean."

Craig glares at her and crosses his arms. "I'm gonna pretend like you didn't just imply that I'm in love with the guy who treated me like shit for months. You know, when he wasn't completely ignoring me," Craig says, hating how bitter he sounds when he says it. Shouldn't he be over it by now?

"Hey, you said love, not me, and you guys have started being friends again, haven't you? You seemed close enough on Halloween at least…" Ruby pauses at the look on Craig's face and sighs.

"Right, sorry," Ruby hums and leans against his shoulder. "You should get a hobby. Something to distract yourself. Like those movies you used to make. Why don't you do that again?"

"I'm more interested in watching movies than making them," Craig replies.

"How about gardening?"

"How about no?"

"Oh come on!" Ruby pleads. "You could have a garden of cacti. They'd be prickly, like you."

"Cactuses, and maybe. I'll think about it," he concedes, snatching the remote and flipping channels in spite of Ruby's protests. Ruby gives up the fight after a moment and leans her head on his shoulder.

"Craig?" she says after a couple minutes of nothing but the sound of rapidly changing channels.

Craig makes a small noise of acknowledgement, finally settling on a movie he knows they've both seen hundreds of times.

"How did you know you were gay?" she asks after a long pause.

Craig looks down at the top of her head and sets the remote down just out of her reach. "I guess I always knew in a way. Admitting it was hard, but once I did, so many things just-"

"Made sense?" Ruby supplies, and Craig nods.

"Exactly," Craig responds. "Why?"

Ruby shrugs but doesn't say anything else. Craig has his suspicions but decides not to push. His sister is strong, and he knows she'll come to him when she's ready.

He wraps his arm around her shoulders instead and pulls her close, settling in to continue their impromptu movie night.

Craig awakens the next morning with a stiff back and sore neck and groans. Ruby is sprawled on the couch next to him, her arm and leg dangling precariously over the edge.

A quick glance at his phone tells him it's time for him to get ready for school. He considers skipping but knows he won't get away with it again. Cursing his past self for using all his sick days, he quickly shakes Ruby awake before she can fall to the floor fully and hurries upstairs to get in the shower before she can stake her claim.

He still isn't fully awake by the time he makes it on the school bus. He scans the seats for somewhere to sit. Stan is sitting alone looking like a storm cloud, but Craig sees no other open seats, so he takes what he can get.

"Hey," he greets just to be polite. Stan gives him a small nod but says nothing else. Not like Craig wanted to talk to him anyway. He would consider this the most awkward bus ride of his life if it weren't for the memory of his time caught wedged between Cartman and Kyle on their hour long bus ride to the museum. Why they all had to share a seat, he can't remember, but he would rather throw himself in front of a train than have a repeat. Speaking of, Craig glances around and notices a lack of a certain angry redhead. He wonders if that has anything to do with Stan's sour mood but doesn't care enough to ask.

He can't get up fast enough when the bus stops in front of the school and pushes his way through the crowd to be the first one off, ignoring the dirty looks aimed his way.

He shoves his things into his locker as fast as possible, hoping today goes by at a pace faster than soul-crushingly slow. He feels a tap on his shoulder and turns to find Kenny standing behind him with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"What do you want, McCormick?"

"I think there's gonna be a fight today. Wanna place a bet?" he asks and shoves his hands in the pockets of his ripped jeans.

"Depends. Who's fighting?"

"Stan's gonna kick the crap out of Token," Kenny answers. "My bet's on Stan. You can't beat a jilted lover, right?"

Craig raises an eyebrow and looks toward Token's locker, not finding him there. "What are you talking about?"

"Token asked Wendy to the winter dance."

Craig sighs heavily and slams his locker shut. "Marsh has gotten sloppy, so I don't think Token has anything to worry about. Where's Broflovski anyway? Isn't he supposed to be Marsh's lapdog or something?"

"Kyle's out sick," Kenny grins. "And when Kyle's away, Stan will play. Or kick ass. Whatever comes first. So, care to place a bet?"

Craig shakes his head and adjusts his books in his arm. "It wouldn't be fair to take your money, McCormick," he says and weaves around Kenny to head to his first class.

He doesn't spot Token or Stan on the way, but he does share his first class with Wendy. He hurries into the room and manages to snag the seat next to her. He ignores the weird look she gives him for a moment as he moves his books and grabs a pen before turning in his seat a little to face her.

"So," he says.

Wendy furrows her brow at him but turns toward him as well. "So," she repeats.

Craig sighs. He knew she wasn't going to make this easy. "I heard you're going to the dance with Token."

Wendy tosses her head back, moving her hair out of her eyes. "What? Don't approve?" she asks.

Craig shrugs and leans one arm on the back of his chair, keeping an eye out for the teacher but not spotting him yet. "No, I approve. The guy's had a crush on you for a decade," Craig says, the grin blossoming on Wendy's face making the corner of his lip twitch. Ah to be young and in love. "I just don't think Stan approves."

The grin quickly morphs into a scowl, and Wendy twists around to face the front again. "I broke up with Stan months ago. If he has a problem, he should come to me himself instead of sending his lackeys."

Craig winces at the harsh way she hisses the last word and holds up his hands in mock surrender.

"I'm not one of Marsh's lackeys. I just heard he was gonna try to start shit with Token. I don't really want to see Stan get his ass kicked," Craig clarifies and turns back to face the front as the teacher finally makes his way into the room, stumbling over apologies and carrying a stack of papers.

He starts handing stacks of packets out to each row before heading back up front and writing the book chapters on the board. The teacher barely teaches, relying instead on fill in the blank packets and group work to compensate. Craig normally hates busy work but finds he doesn't mind as much today as he takes his packet and turns back toward Wendy.

Wendy writes her name on the top of the packet in neat, flowing script and opens her book before speaking again. "I tried talking to him before all this," she says. "I don't know what else to say."

"Why'd you break up with him?"

Wendy tucks her hair behind her ear and shrugs, finishing the answer she was currently writing. "I realized after a while that I was with him for all the wrong reasons. He was my childhood love, my first boyfriend, my first lots of things. I thought I had to be with him forever because we had already been together so long, and if I couldn't make that work, then what hope did I have?"

Craig looks back at her, watching her pen move across her paper.

"But then I realized that I shouldn't settle for someone just because they were the first. I realized I was holding myself back from finding something better because I was scared of moving on, and I was holding him back too," she says. "Even though he doesn't seem to agree right now."

Craig fakes a laugh for her benefit and shoves her shoulder gently. "I get what you're saying," he says. "Do you want me to talk to him?"

Wendy gives him a look of surprise but shakes her head. "Just warn Token to stay away from him. You should talk to Kyle instead. He'd be more willing to listen."

"Kyle's not here today," Craig explains as he leans over to start copying Wendy's answers. She slides her paper closer.

"Of course he isn't," she says and sighs. "Just warn Token then. I'll call Kyle at lunch."

Craig nods and keeps copying answers as Wendy writes them, spending the rest of the class period in companionable silence.

He spends most of the day avoiding Stan and desperately trying to find Token. Token remains a ghost, and unfortunately, he and Craig share no classes. Stan is easier to find, but Craig keeps his word and doesn't approach him. He storms through the halls, his fists clenched and his face etched in a perma-scowl the likes of which Craig hasn't seen since Ruby's boyfriend broke up with her on her birthday a few years back. Craig almost starts to doubt if Token really would be able to take him in a fight.

Craig manages to run into Token right before last period and snags his arm before he can rush by. "Where the hell have you been all day?"

Token pulls away from Craig's grip, a confused smile on his face. "What do you mean? I've been in class," he says, seeming unaware of the target on his back.

"Well, whatever you do, avoid Marsh after school," Craig says and does a quick scan of the halls to make sure he hasn't accidentally summoned Marsh by talking about him. He doesn't see Stan anywhere, but he does spot Tweek and Jimmy talking to each other further down the hall. Tweek glances his way and gives him a small wave.

"What are you talking about?" Token asks, pulling Craig's focus back to him.

"He wants to beat you up for asking Wendy to the dance," Craig explains.

"Who wants to b-be-beat up T-tuh-token?" Jimmy asks, he and Tweek having made their way over.

"Stan, apparently," Token answers before Craig can open his mouth.

"D-don't worry, b-buh-buddy. We can save y-your a- y-y-your ah-"

"We'll protect you," Tweek says, smiling at Jimmy when he nudges his elbow.

"That's a good idea," Craig says. "You wait here after class. All of us will meet here, and we'll leave together."

He finishes just as the warning bell rings, and they all voice their agreements before parting ways. Craig is happy to have his friends all back together for once, but still can't help feeling like something is missing.

It turns out their plan was a good one, as a solo Marsh doesn't even try to approach the group as they leave school grounds and head for Token's car. He offers to give them all a ride home for their troubles, dropping off Jimmy first then stopping at Craig's. Craig bids Token good bye and wishes Tweek luck at work then takes his leave, unable to keep his eyes off the Donovan house as he passes.

Craig makes it to his bedroom and shuts his door behind him. He heads toward his bed, about to fall down onto it when something on his desk catches his eye. He moves a little closer and sees a small pink pot housing a tiny cactus sitting on top of a letter. He picks up the cactus and the letter, his eyes skimming over the words.

"I found him at the store and bought him for you. His name is Paul. Take good care of him. He's a baby.

Love,

Ruby"

Craig smiles and gingerly sets the cact- Paul back on his desk. He's about to turn back toward his bed when he changes his mind, rifling through his desk drawers and pulling out a sharpie. He picks Paul back up and sets to work redecorating his pot, doodling a couple tiny stars and an alien on the clay. He's about to draw a planet on the back when a soft knock interrupts him.

He sets his marker and Paul back on his desk and opens his door, his mom standing on the other side.

"Can I come in?" she asks, and Craig nods, letting her pass by him to take a seat on his bed. "Your father called," she adds.

"What did he want?" Craig asks, hoping he was able to keep the bitterness out of his voice but knowing he failed by the look on his mom's face.

"He wants to spend time with you," she says. "He misses you."

"So?"

"Craig, he's your father. You need to spend time with him," his mother says, the exasperation clear in her voice.

Craig closes his eyes to prevent himself from rolling them. "He hasn't spent time with me in years, and now he wants to pretend that he cares?"

"He's always cared about you," she says. Craig can tell by the tightness around her mouth that she's near fed up with him, but he can't help arguing when it comes to his dad.

"Why do you defend him so much?"

"Because I still love him," his mother answers immediately and sighs, patting the bed next to her. She turns to Craig once he's sat down and takes his hands, holding them tight.

"Your father and I did truly love each other. You know that, don't you?" she asks and waits for Craig to nod before continuing. "When you truly love someone, that love never goes away. No matter all the pain and misery, that love will always be there. Sometimes it just so happens that you may realize you're better off separate than together. That doesn't mean you no longer love each other, just that you are no longer good for each other. Does that make sense?"

Craig looks away toward the floor, his brow creasing in thought. "How are you supposed to know if it will all work out?"

His mom sighs and releases one of his hands to brush his hair back. "You can't know that, but you also can't spend your entire life running from something just because you're scared of the outcome. Sometimes you just need to take chances on things in life. Love is one of those things.

"Things with your father and I didn't work out, but I wouldn't change any of it," she says and smiles. "I still have you and your sister, and your father will still be there for us all when we need him. He really does love you."

Craig looks back at her and squeezes her hand. "I know," he concedes.

"And I love you," she says and pulls him into a hug.

Craig hugs back and rests his cheek on her shoulder. "I love you too."

His mom releases him after a moment and stands, patting his cheek. "Your father will be here soon, so get ready," she says and leaves the room, shutting the door behind her.

Craig sits for a moment, thinking over everything his mom said. He wonders if that's been his problem all along. Maybe he isn't actually incapable of loving. Maybe he's just scared. Maybe Clyde is scared too.

He doesn't get very far in his thoughts before he hears the front door opening and his dad's loud voice echoing up the stairs.

Craig decides against bringing his phone with him and heads downstairs, finding his father still standing by the door waiting. He gives Craig a brief smile and pulls him into a hug as soon as Craig is close enough, patting his back almost too hard.

"How have you been, son?" Thomas asks once Craig has slipped out of his grip to pull on his boots and coat.

"Fine," Craig answers, trying to ignore the look his mom is giving him.

He opens the door and hurries out into the cold before his mom can try having another talk with him. He doesn't wait for his dad to follow. Thomas' heavy footfalls can be heard trudging through the snow behind him. He doesn't know what his dad has planned for today, but he can't find any reason to feel excited.

He hasn't seen his dad since the day his parents signed the divorce papers, and he knows from the talks with his mom that it isn't all his dad's fault. He guesses in his mind that he needs some sort of scapegoat, and his dad seemed like the logical pick.

"How's school?" his dad asks as he pulls the car out of the driveway.

"It's fine," Craig answers and resists the urge to fiddle with the radio. It isn't all his dad's fault, but he still can't let go of the anger he's been feeling on his mom's behalf over the past few months. His dad hasn't been around to see how hard she's worked to keep things going, even as she drowned in the guilt and anger and shame. He hasn't been around to see the pitying looks all the neighbors had taken to giving them all any time they were out in public.

"I heard that Donovan kid was giving you trouble," his dad continues, obviously trying to egg him on into a full conversation. Craig doesn't want to take the bait, not that he has anything to say on the matter anyway.

"He was. I took care of it," Craig says and turns away so he's facing the window, watching the houses and businesses drift by as they pass. "Not like you care," Craig whispers because he can't help it.

His dad is silent after, but Craig is sure he heard his last comment. There's no way he didn't. Craig almost starts to feel guilty for it, but his dad is stopping the car. He has no more time to think about it.

Thomas pulls the car into the empty lot of a diner, one that Craig recognizes from his and Ruby's birthday breakfasts when they were still kids, and turns off the engine but makes no effort to get out.

"I know you've been having a hard time," Thomas says, his voice sounding dejected. "Your mom has been keeping me up to date on things."

Craig looks back at him, not sure what he's meant to say.

"I'm sorry I haven't been around to help you. Not that you needed it," Thomas say with a chuckle. "I can't remember the last time I had to help bandage a cut. You were always an independent kid."

Thomas reaches over and takes Craig's hand, smiling gently when Craig doesn't immediately pull away. "I always worried that you wouldn't know how to ask for help when you needed it, but you're an adult now. You're strong and smart. I guess I didn't need to worry."

Craig just looks back at him for a moment before smirking a bit. "What is this? Eat, Pray, Love?"

Thomas rolls his eyes and chuckles, patting Craig's hand. "You're also a sarcastic shithead. Is that better?"

Craig nods and smiles back at his dad for once. Thomas returns the smile and opens the door. "I hope you're hungry."

Craig follows his dad out of the car and into the diner, feeling much lighter after their talk. He didn't realize how much the anger and hurt had been weighing him down until the knot had started loosening itself.


	9. In Silence We Still Talk

Craig wakes up to the sounds of booming laughter and a light knocking on his bedroom door. His door cracks open a second later, Ruby poking her head in and slinking inside once she sees he's awake.

Craig can smell a hint of turkey in the air as he sits up and stretches, pulling his blankets out of the way so Ruby can sit next to him.

"What do you want?" Craig asks, his voice sounding gravelly with sleep.

"Dad and grandma are here," Ruby says. "Mom started the turkey already, but she said dinner won't be ready for at least another hour."

Craig nods and waits for her to spill the real reason she came in here.

"Mom invited some extra guests this year," she begins, and Craig is sure he knows where this is going already.

"Let me guess," Craig interrupts. "Our lovely next door neighbors, the Donovan's."

"And Karen," Ruby supplies.

"Joy," Craig deadpans. He just loves the idea of spending the day being forced into awkward conversations with Clyde. Having his family present will just be the icing on one shit cake.

Ruby nudges his shoulder and gives him a smile. "It'll be okay," she says, "and if it isn't, I'm sure you could kick his ass."

Craig snorts a laugh and nudges her back. "We should start a betting pool," he says then nudges her again. "Alright, get up. I gotta get in the shower if I'm gonna have to spend all day socializing."

Ruby hops off the bed and leaves the room, shutting the door and effectively blocking out the sounds of his family.

Craig sighs as he heaves himself out of bed, digging out some clean clothes. He should have known his mom would attempt to intervene with Clyde. He hasn't spoken to him since he dropped the news about his date with Tweek, and he hasn't seen him much either. He knows there are things he needs to say, but he doesn't want to bring them up with his entire family present. He starts formulating ideas for how to get Clyde alone as he gets ready for his shower.

Thanksgiving dinner is awkward to say the least, more awkward than Craig imagined it being during his shower. Craig keeps his eyes on his plate, not trusting himself to look at Clyde. He doesn't know how he would react if they made eye contact and doesn't want to test it while sitting in between his mom and grandma.

He makes general polite conversation with his grandma and answers the basic questions about school, college, and his unfortunate love life. He swears he feels someone nudge his foot under the table when he admits to being single but doesn't dare investigate.

He looks toward the end of the table and meets eyes with Ruby. Her and Karen are packing extra food into tupperware containers and bickering over how much gravy is too much gravy, but Ruby still pauses in her gravy battle to give him a meaningful look.

"Have you asked anyone to the dance?"

Craig breaks eye contact and looks across the table to Mr. Donovan. Clyde is pushing food around his plate and looking uncomfortable.

"I asked Bebe," he mutters.

"I still say you two should date again. I always liked her," Mr. Donovan says.

Craig notices the other conversations have tapered into nothing and grabs himself another helping of turkey to break the awkwardness.

Clyde hasn't said anything in reply, but there's a tightness around his mouth that wasn't there before. His gaze is fixed on his mostly full plate, and his knuckles are white where he's gripping his fork.

"I don't understand why you broke up in the first place. She was a nice girl," Mr. Donovan continues, unaware of his son's dour mood. "She reminded me of how your mother used to be when I first met her."

"Leave him alone, Roger. Can't you see he doesn't want to talk about it?" Craig's dad interrupts before Clyde can blow a fuse.

Clyde loosens his grip on his abused fork and shoots a thankful look toward the head of the table. His eyes meet Craig's briefly on the way back to his plate, but they don't linger.

Mr. Donovan looks ready to retort but seems to decide against it and falls silent instead, returning to his near forgotten food. Craig's sure he's never seen anyone eat so aggressively before.

"Who's ready for dessert?" Craig's grandma chimes in before the awkwardness settles too deep. She pats Craig's arm as she stands. "Why don't you help me?"

Craig stands and gathers whatever plates he can, following his grandma into the kitchen. She helps him stack dishes in the sink then turns to grab the pies out of the oven.

"I have dessert plates in that bag. Could you grab them for me?" his grandma asks and points.

Craig grabs the bag and starts gathering the dishes, holding back his laughter at the frilly unicorns printed on top. "Are these the plates me and Ruby got you for Christmas?"

His grandma smiles as she cuts the pies into slices and packs some into tupperware for the McCormick's. "Of course. I never use anything else," she says. She starts plating slices before speaking again. "Have you and Clyde not been getting along?"

Craig sets the plates aside as they're finished, staying quiet for a moment.

"He was staring at you for most of the meal," she continues. "You two used to be so close when you were little, but I haven't heard much of him recently."

Craig looks back at her, cursing how observant she is. If he had to guess where Ruby got her skills, he would blame his grandma one hundred percent.

"We haven't been friends for a while," Craig answers but knows by the noise his grandma makes that that answer won't cut it. "I think I caused his gay crisis," Craig adds.

"Ah, I see," his grandma replies. "You are a handsome boy, it's bound to happen," she says and rubs his back.

Craig snorts a laugh and starts gathering plates. "I think it's settled for now anyway. I was gonna try talking to him after dinner."

His grandma gathers the rest of the plates and follows him back to the group. "I hope it goes well, dear. I always liked him," she says.

Craig sets the plates down in front of the Donovan's, Ruby, and Karen. He lingers behind Clyde a moment, thinking over what his grandma said. She always liked him. She's always been a great judge of character. Would she feel the same if she knew everything that had gone down between them?

Craig takes his seat again, watching as Clyde goes from picking at his dinner to picking at his dessert. Mr. Donovan thankfully hasn't pestered him again, but Clyde looks no more comfortable now than he did at the start.

The group manages to make it through dessert without incident. Craig worrying the entire meal that his dad would start something with Clyde's. He hopes his dad is smart enough to stay out of it but can never be too sure. Clyde doesn't white knuckle his fork through the rest of the meal, but he doesn't eat much of it either. Craig's grandma will most likely offer him leftovers to take home once Ruby and Karen have finished packing plates for the McCormick's.

It's only once Karen and Ruby stand with their bags of food and announce their departure that the rest of the group scatters as well, the parents moving to the kitchen to talk. Craig feels his grandma's frail hand on his shoulder and smiles at her retreating back before noticing that he and Clyde are the only two left at the table.

Craig locks eyes with him and stands. "Wanna go upstairs?" he asks, only cringing slightly at how suggestive that question sounds in the face of everything.

Clyde shrugs and nods, following Craig up in spite of looking like he'd rather be doing anything else.

Craig shuts the door behind them and takes a seat on his bed, gesturing for Clyde to join him. Clyde does but remains silent, his fingers twisting in the hem of his jacket.

"So how have you been?" Clyde asks, his gaze roaming Craig's room rather than fixing on Craig for any amount of time. He's making a point to look at everything as if he's never seen Craig's room before in his life.

Craig raises an eyebrow, feeling as if he should've been the one asking. Everything feels off, and he doesn't know what to do to fix it.

"I've been alright. Doesn't seem like you've been okay though," he says, hoping that will be enough to spur Clyde into spilling whatever it is that's bothering him so much.

Clyde shrugs and offers nothing else in the way of an answer, but he does finally meet Craig's gaze, his eyes looking glassier than Craig remembers them looking during dinner.

"Is there anything you want to talk about?" Craig prods in a last ditch effort to get Clyde to open up.

Clyde shakes his head and turns away, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve. "It's nothing, dude. Don't worry about it," he says.

Craig rolls his eyes and leans back against the headboard, his body twisting to face Clyde. Clyde is still hunched over, his gaze fixed on his own feet.

"In case you haven't noticed, our shit is pretty entangled right now," Craig says, "has been since the beginning of the year."

Clyde looks up from his shoes and gives Craig his full attention.

"Maybe we can figure this shit out together," Craig adds. "Mi problem es su problem."

Clyde laughs finally, a short one, but the sound breaks the tension and takes some weight off Craig's shoulders.

"Dude, you suck at Spanish," Clyde says, the smile on his face twisting Craig's stomach into confusing knots.

"Well, whose fault is that? We spent all our Spanish classes passing notes," Craig argues, shaking off the floating and borderline nauseating feeling building inside him.

"Yeah, in middle school!" Clyde fires back. "What you did or didn't learn in high school Spanish has nothing to do with me."

"Yeah, okay pendejo," Craig responds to more laughter from Clyde, his middle finger raising by habit.

Clyde takes a while to calm down again, a heavy silence settling over them again when he does.

"Alright," Clyde says. "I just want to apologize for acting the way I did when you told me about Tweek. I had no right to act like a jealous boyfriend. It wasn't fair."

Craig is shocked to say the least. Out of everything he expected Clyde to say, mentioning Tweek was not one of them. He wonders if Clyde knows the date was a colossal failure.

"Tweek's always been a good friend, and I think you guys will make a good couple," he continues, looking as if the words pain him to say.

"Clyde, we went on one date. That doesn't mean we're dating," Craig says.

"Aren't you?"

"No, we're not," Craig says. He was hoping to get more answers out of Clyde, but it looks like they're delving back into Craig's miserable love life instead. He'd be lying if he said he weren't frustrated with how this conversation is going. "The date didn't go very well."

"Why not?" Clyde asks, and Craig wonders how he can be so close to adulthood with so few social skills.

"We kissed, but it was like kissing my brother, basically," Craig explains, hoping the tone of his voice will put the conversation to rest.

"So what do you feel when you kiss me?" Clyde asks, oblivious to the annoyance radiating off Craig in waves.

"I'm not answering that," Craig snaps and slides down the headboard so he's lying flat on his back.

"Right, sorry," Clyde says with the decency to at least sound sheepish. The sounds of his shoes hitting the floor on the other side of the room reach Craig's ears.

Craig has his eyes closed but can feel the bed dip next to him, Clyde's weight settling almost too close.

"You wanna know what I feel when I kiss you?"

Craig opens his eyes again, turning his head to find Clyde lying side by side with him. He's reminded of their childhood again, spending nights lying just like this, telling ghost stories and talking until his dad would come in to tell them to shut up and go to sleep. He's also reminded of the night they spent together months ago, their bodies tangled together through the night and how he woke up in the morning to cold sheets and a letter with no real answers.

Craig squeezes his eyes shut, forcing the thoughts out of his mind, then nods, not sure he wants to know the answer but feeling curious all the same.

"It's like how I used to feel when I kissed Bebe, you know, when everything was new and not forced," Clyde says and Craig winces, not fond of being compared to Clyde's ex, "but it's also different. It's like, I'm attracted to you, and I was attracted to her, but the way I'm attracted to you is different, bigger almost."

Clyde trails off and runs his fingers through his hair, his brows scrunching.

"I probably should have thought this through more," Clyde says. "It sounds confusing when I say it out loud."

"Sexuality is confusing," Craig says.

"I guess what I'm trying to get at is that I'm worried things with you and me might end up just like me and Bebe. Like, how can you love someone for so long, then just not feel anything for them anymore?" Clyde asks.

"Is that what you're so scared of?" Craig asks in return.

"Not really," Clyde says, tugging on his hair in frustration. "That's just one thing. There's a lot of things I'm afraid of, and I just don't want to drag you into all of it."

Craig sighs, just wanting this conversation to end. "That's the thing about love and relationships, Clyde. You can't be scared to start one just because you're afraid of how it's going to end, and you can't force yourself into a relationship you're not ready for either," Craig says and sits up. "You should probably go get some leftovers from my grandma. You barely ate anything."

Clyde looks up at him for a while, but Craig refuses to make eye contact. He doesn't want to continue talking in circles. He just wants Clyde to leave so he can be alone to think.

Clyde seems to get the hint and sits up as well, leaving the bed to go grab his shoes. "I wish I could give you more answers," Clyde says then leaves the room in silence.

Craig doesn't move from his bed and just listens to the sounds of conversation from downstairs. He hasn't heard Ruby return yet, but he can hear Mr. Donovan's voice still and doesn't want to make an appearance until after the extra guests have left.

Craig isn't sure why he keeps hoping that every new conversation with Clyde will help everything fall into place. All he's ever left with is more questions and a feeling of deep disappointment. He's not even sure who he's more disappointed in, Clyde for not gathering the courage to fix his own life or himself for getting dragged into Clyde's mess again and again and hoping for a different outcome each time. He guesses people do crazy things when they're in love, and no he didn't just think that. That isn't a thing.

All he knows now is he can't help Clyde until he decides to help himself, and he isn't sure if even Clyde knows how to help himself. His only hope now is the Clyde will eventually wise up and figure everything out for himself.

A light tap on his door breaks him out of his thoughts, and he readjusts himself so he doesn't look so slumped and miserable as he calls for whoever it is to enter.

His grandma pushes the door open, a small smile on her face. "How did it go?" she asks without preamble and moves to gather up some clothes Craig left on the floor.

Craig climbs off his bed to help her, a shrug his only answer to her question. She hums but doesn't say anything else about it as she finishes moving his clothes from the floor to his oft unused hamper. Craig is always grateful for his talks with his grandma as she's always had the keen sense to know when someone isn't ready to talk about something.

"Dad didn't pick another fight with Mr. Donovan, did he?" Craig asks. He doesn't think Mr. Donovan knows anything about what his son has been up to and hopes his dad is smart enough not to mention anything incriminating.

"Only about the best sports team," she says and takes a seat on the edge of his bed. "Clyde seemed upset when he came downstairs."

Craig sits down beside her, taking her hand when she offers it. He's feeling more relaxed without even having said anything yet. He's always been convinced that his grandma is some sort of emotional superhero. She's his hero at any rate.

"I don't really know where to start or how to fix any of it," Craig says, looking at his grandma when she squeezes his hand.

"Craig, you are incredibly smart," she says and reaches up to brush his hair back from his forehead. "I know it all seems confusing now, but there will come a time where everything will fall into place, and you will know."

Craig furrows his brow, his gaze falling to the floor. "What will I know?"

"You'll know when you find it. You and Clyde," she says and gives his hand one final squeeze before releasing it. "Do you think you're up to giving me a hand with the cleaning?"

Craig smiles at her and nods. "I'll be down in a minute."

His grandma returns the smile and shuts his door behind her, leaving Craig to think over what she told him. He isn't sure what to make of it, if he's being honest. His grandma has never steered him wrong before, but he isn't sure he's as smart as his grandma thinks he is, especially not when it comes to emotions.

Craig sighs and lifts himself up, pushing his thoughts to the back of his mind for now. His and Clyde's problems are too bound together, and as much as he doesn't want to admit it, he needs Clyde to figure it out before he can have any hope of fixing anything.

All he needs now is a surefire way to get Clyde to spill the thing that's holding him back, the Big One, then he'll be golden.


	10. If I Had the Chance

If you started here, go back a chapter for update 1 of 2!

* * *

"Please tell me you guys got matching ties," Ruby asks. She's sat on the edge of Craig's bed, watching as he keeps fiddling with his tie and his shirt sleeves. Craig never got the hang of dressing up. If he had a choice, he would wear t-shirts and sweats every day forever.

"You know it," he says, giving up on the tie after the tenth retie. He turns to face his sister, his arms held out. "What do you think?"

Ruby gives him a big thumbs up and takes a quick picture on her phone before he can cover his face.

Craig wasn't exactly nervous for the dance. He didn't have an actual date, although the giant poster board Jimmy and Tweek had used to ask him to go stag with them had found a permanent place fixed to his bedroom wall, so he didn't have to worry about impressing anyone. And yet his nerves have been off the chart all night and have only been getting worse the more time passes.

He's come to terms with the fact that his unnamed feelings for? about? Clyde won't get any better until they talk everything out. They'd grown a step closer in Thanksgiving, but that was nearing on three weeks ago, and for every step forward, there seems to be three steps back. Nothing to do now except what he's best at: ignore and avoid.

"Clyde's going, isn't he?" Ruby asks, at least having the sense to look sheepish when Craig glares at her. His theory that Ruby is somehow psychic has only been gaining more traction these days.

Ruby stands from the bed and pats Craig on the arm.

"I believe in you, Craig," she says, then leaves before Craig can ask what she means. Mystic Ruby and her never-ending wisdom.

Craig glances around the room one last time before deciding he has nothing else he can use to procrastinate. His mom will inevitably want pictures of him in his suit. He just hopes she doesn't expect him to pose.

He takes his time on the stairs, and just as he suspected, his mom is sat on the couch, disposable camera in hand. Her smile looks strained as she takes the first picture, but she says nothing as she takes another and another.

She follows him to the porch to take a couple more before setting the camera aside to mess with his hair. Craig lets her without protest.

"You clean up so well," she says as she brushes his hair back from his forehead, "if only I could get you to dress up more often."

"It's just not in my nature," Craig answers, overly aware of the tension in his mom's shoulders.

"Listen-"

A well timed and obnoxious car horn cuts her off before she can finish her thought, Jimmy leaning out the passenger side window.

"Gu-get in l-l-loser. We're g-guh-going d-dancing," Jimmy says then struggles for almost too long pulling himself back in the car.

Craig sighs and shrugs, already backing toward the car.

"My chariot awaits."

His mom looks like she still has something to say, but she settles for a tight-lipped smile and a wave as Craig clambers into the backseat. He'll make it up to her later. Craig waves back, but Tweek's already pulling away from the curb. His car radio is blasting 'so bad it's good' eighties pop that he and Jimmy are doing an awkward car shuffle to. They're both dressed in suits, Jimmy's crutches decorated with the stickers Craig gave him for the occasion. They look as awesome as Craig insisted they would, glittery stars and planets stuck with no semblance of a pattern and matching perfectly with the galaxy ties they had all decided on the week before.

Jimmy turns in his seat to aim a lopsided grin at Craig. "R-ready to b-b-boogie?" he asks.

"You know it," Craig says as deadpan as possible, his fingers worrying at the too-tight knot in his tie and the mess that is his hair. He misses his hat though he knows he shouldn't. Tweek and Jimmy will be with him. He has nothing to worry about.

Nothing besides having to watch Clyde and Bebe spend all night together, but no, he's not thinking about that. Not now.

"You okay?" Tweek asks, and Craig locks eyes with him in the rearview, a slight nod and a forced smile his only answer.

"L-lighten up, C-Craig," Jimmy says and twists in his seat to pass something back to Craig. "H-h-here."

Craig takes a small plastic case from Jimmy's hand, holding it close to the window so he can see what it is. "You guys got corsages? Losers," Craig says as he pins the flower to his jacket anyway.

"Technically it's called a boutonniere," Tweek says.

"Y-yeah. If you-you're gonna insult us, g-get it r-right," Jimmy adds, joining in Craig's laughter.

"Sorry," Craig says, sounding anything but.

They laugh and joke through the rest of the short drive to the high school, the jokes continuing on the walk through the parking lot and into the gym where they stop for throuple pictures spent laughing at the bewildered look on the photographer's face.

They make it to the dance floor only after Tweek and Jimmy assault the dj with an unreasonable number of song requests and manage to stay on the outskirts of the throng of students as they start their admittedly terrible dancing. Craig isn't ashamed to admit he has no rhythm, and Tweek and Jimmy aren't either by the looks of the moves they're pulling. Craig can't find it in himself to be embarrassed, happy to spend the night having fun for once.

"Hey Craig."

Craig pauses, his arms still awkwardly tangled around Jimmy. He pulls his arms free and passes Jimmy over to Tweek before turning to face the last person he expected to want to speak to him.

Bebe looks gorgeous as always, her hair pinned up loose and her red dress fitting her like a glove. Craig is sure if he had any inclination toward girls at all, he would have had a crush on her at some point.

"Can we talk?" she asks, and Craig shrugs, glancing back at Tweek and Jimmy. They both wave him off then go back to attempting a dance that looks like a cross between the running man and a series of fist pumps. Craig shakes his head at his pseudo dates before following Bebe around the edge of the crowd toward the empty tables.

Craig keeps his eyes peeled for Clyde but doesn't see him anywhere. He does spot Token and Wendy, easily the two best dancers in the entire gym. Wendy waves at them both, never breaking stride.

He sees Kyle too, milling around with Kenny and Eric and looking like he's about ready to stab the latter. Kenny gives him a wave then starts making crude gestures after pointing at Bebe. He responds to Craig's middle finger with a salute and a laugh. Nothing out of the ordinary with their group other than the inclusion of Stan's date. She's standing nearby, but no Stan in sight. Craig would be worried about that, but figures if Kyle isn't hunting him down, then he's probably not making an ass of himself.

Bebe stops once they're out of the way and out of earshot then moves in close so Craig can hear her over the music.

"Have you seen Clyde?" she asks.

Craig shakes his head. "He's your date," he says. He knows that's probably not what Bebe dragged him over here to ask, but he can be patient and wait for her to get to the point.

Bebe sighs, her eyebrows drawn and her arms folded. "Follow me," she says then turns on her heel and stalks toward the door of the gym. She doesn't look to make sure Craig is following, but she doesn't have to. Craig is curious and follows without question.

The door swings shut behind them, masking the sounds of the music and yells from their classmates. The hallways are dim and deserted. Craig's always thought the school was eerie when class wasn't in session, and how it looks now does nothing to change his mind.

Bebe picks a direction and starts walking, slowing so Craig can catch up.

"I wanted to apologize," Bebe says, her heels clicking a steady beat against the floor.

Craig hesitates, a frown working its way on his face. "For what?"

"For everything that's happened to you this year," she answers. She stops walking and leans against a random locker, bending over to pull her shoes off. "These heels are killing me."

"Why are you apologizing?" Craig asks. "You didn't do anything."

"I didn't exactly help things either," Bebe says. "Wendy always told me that watching the bullying happen and doing nothing is just as bad as being the bully yourself. I knew what Clyde said about you was wrong. I knew about his feelings for you, but I didn't say anything."

Craig sighs and leans against the lockers next to her.

"For that, I'm sorry," she says. "I just hope you can forgive me."

Craig looks at her a moment then nudges her with his shoulder, giving her a small smile. "There's nothing to forgive," he says then pushes himself up off the lockers, starting the walk back to the gym.

"I just want you to know that he really does like you, even though he's done a shit job of showing it," she says. Craig doesn't look back, but he can hear her bare feet padding on the linoleum behind him. "I tried talking to him about it once, but I couldn't really get anything out of him."

"I think this is something he'll explain only when he's ready," Craig says, commiserating with her inability to extract any answers from Clyde. He stops, holding his arm out for Bebe to take.

Bebe does and keeps pace with him as they continue wandering the halls.

"Thanks for taking the time to talk to me about this," Craig says. "It made me feel a lot better."

Bebe smiles up at him and opens her mouth to reply but promptly shuts it, both of them stopping in their tracks at the sounds of shouting coming from somewhere further down the hall. Craig looks to Bebe who inclines her head in the direction of the shouting.

They creep their way back toward the gym doors and stop before rounding the corner, the voices loud and clear now. Craig peeks around the wall anyway, finding a wobbly Stan standing with his back turned to them, something that looks suspiciously like a flask clutched in his hand. Kyle is facing him down, his hands clenched and his face beet red. Craig would find it funny if he didn't know for sure what that meant. Kyle's angry, and nobody likes him when he's angry.

"Just fuck off, would you?" Stan slurs and takes a long pull off his flask. He's barely staying on his feet as is. Craig isn't sure how much more he can drink without keeling over.

"No! I'm not going to fuck off, Stan," Kyle shouts and storms forward, his footfalls thundering in the quiet of the hall. Craig is impressed with how Stan holds his ground. Kyle isn't much to look at, but he is tall, and he frightens even the toughest when he's as angry as he looks now. "You always pull this shit! Wendy dumps you, and what do you do? You go straight for the fucking alcohol. Move the fuck on!"

"What I do about Wendy is none of your fucking business, dude," Stan answers, taking one more drink before whipping his empty flask down the hall. "Why should I care what you think anyway? You've never even had a fucking girlfriend last for longer than a week."

Craig looks at Bebe and finds her already looking back at him, her eyes just as wide as his feel.

"It is my business when you go around acting like a jackass everywhere you go. How about finding a more constructive way to deal with your problems! You're just like your fucking dad!"

It's no sooner the words are out of Kyle's mouth than Stan's on him, his fist colliding with Kyle's jaw. Kyle for his part manages to stay on his feet but looks ready to return the punch until Craig and Bebe get in the middle. Bebe manages to snag Kyle's arm and tugs him away and back into the gym, a string of expletives trailing behind them. The door swings shut with a heavy clank, leaving Craig to deal with a drunk Stan on his own. Joy.

Craig looks Stan up and down, noticing the disheveled appearance, bloodshot eyes, and a weird mix of anger and regret on his face.

"Dude, what the hell are you doing? If you're gonna get drunk at a school function, at least do it right. First rule of in school drinking: don't get sloppy," Craig says, hoping Stan will crack a smile. No such luck.

Stan moves to the lockers and slides to the floor, his face in his hands. "Oh fuck, I'm such a fuckup," he moans.

Craig sighs and joins him on the floor, patting his shoulder awkwardly and feeling a sense of deja vu from Token's party. "You're not a fuckup, dude. You just get in your head too much," Craig says.

Stan looks up at him with a glassy gaze. "What does that even mean?"

Craig winces at the whine in Stan's voice and shrugs. "All I know is you have got to quit the booze. That shit fucks you up too much, and it's not a good look," Craig says, a vivid mental image of Randy Marsh drunk and half-naked embedding itself in his mind before he can stop it. "And you should start listening to Kyle more. He's the smartest guy I know, and he cares about you."

Stan frowns at the mention of Kyle's name and drops his face in his hands again. "I can't believe I hit him. He's never gonna fucking forgive me."

Craig rolls his eyes and pats Stan's shoulder again. "Of course he will. He's your best friend."

"I wouldn't consider me a best friend if I were him," Stan replies, his tone sullen.

"You're doing it again, dude," Craig says and shoves Stan's shoulder. "You gotta stop beating yourself up. Kyle's forgiven you for worse."

As if on cue, the gym doors swing open again, and Kyle steps through, Bebe hovering a foot behind. Craig stands and gestures to Stan as he passes back into the gym.

"He's all yours," he says to a visibly calmed Kyle then turns back again. "Oh, and Stan?"

Stan looks up as Kyle takes Craig's vacated spot.

"Don't make me have to comfort you again, or I'll kick your ass."

With that, he follows Bebe back into the gym, hoping Stan's eau de booze isn't lingering on him. Bebe has her shoes back on, but her hair is a little looser, a couple tendrils resting on her shoulders.

"I don't think I've ever seen Kyle that angry before," she says. "I almost had to wrestle him back in here."

"If anyone could, it's you," Craig says then pauses in his tracks.

Clyde is standing only a few feet away, so close Craig wonders how he even missed him in the first place. Craig turns to say something to Bebe but finds an empty space where she used to be. He wants to be mad but knows that was her plan from the get-go.

"Hey," Clyde says, in front of Craig before Craig can even notice, and man does he really need to start paying attention to his surroundings.

"Hi," Craig greets, hoping his voice doesn't do anything embarrassing like crack or stutter.

"I, uh," Clyde says in an aborted attempt at a conversation. He looks away, his hand finding the back of his head.

He looks nice, Craig can't help thinking. His suit fits perfectly, his red tie the same shade as Bebe's dress, and his hair sitting on his head looking as if he had placed each strand in a meticulous display.

"I've been looking for you," Clyde says after a moment.

"Why?" Craig asks without thinking, and no, that wasn't what he meant to say. Why did he ask that?

Clyde doesn't say anything. He does step closer and holds out a hand. Craig doesn't react. He stares at the offered hand, his brain fried at the moment. Clyde shakes his hand around a little but doesn't drop it, a grin breaking across his face.

"Earth to Craig. Come in Spaceman Craig," he says and smiles harder when Craig manages to shake off his momentary stupor long enough to take Clyde's hand.

Clyde steps ever closer, his hands finding Craig's waist. The points of contact feel like fire lancing up Craig's sides. He hopes his face isn't as red as it feels. He feels the racing of his heart and the sweating in his palms and knows he will never understand how Clyde does the things he does to him while also managing to piss him off royally on even his best days.

"What are we doing?" Craig asks, his hands feeling shaky where they rest on Clyde's shoulders.

"Dancing," Clyde says, "I thought that was obvious."

Craig gives him a look in lieu of a real response.

"I should have asked you instead," Clyde whispers, leaning in close so Craig can hear. Craig tightens his grip on Clyde's suit jacket, holding him there so he can't back off again.

"I thought you were scared," Craig whispers back, his head angled so they can make eye contact.

"I don't have anything to be afraid of here," Clyde says. "I just want you to know that I still consider you my best friend, and I'm not gonna disappear on you again."

Craig doesn't want to believe it until he sees it, but he still smiles, a slight upturn of the lips, and nods.

"I still have things to work out, but I'm not gonna push you away while I work on it," he says. "I miss all our old friends anyway."

"You should come to Token's on New Year's, then," Craig responds. "We're getting the group together. No huge party. I'm sure they'd be happy to see you."

"Even Token?"

"I'll talk to him," Craig says then leans in to rest his head on Clyde's shoulder. The rational part of his brain is yelling at him to keep his distance, but the other part of his brain, the part that keeps thinking about how perfect they fit and how Clyde still makes his heart race in spite of everything, is drowning it out.

Clyde's head drops against Craig's shoulder then turns so his lips can plant themselves against his neck. Craig half expects Clyde to tell him he loves him again, and he isn't sure how he would react if it did happen now. They're in the middle of the gym surrounded by their classmates and the sounds of the Thompson Twins, and all Craig can think about is how Tweek and Jimmy definitely requested this song and when did he suddenly get thrust into a John Hughes movie?

If he's honest, he's also thinking about the smell of Clyde's cologne and how it reminds him of Token's party and how much he hopes he can still smell it on his own jacket later and how he really should ask Clyde what the hell that scent is and-

"Craig?"

"Yeah?" Craig answers but doesn't make any move to pull away even though his voice is muffled by Clyde's neck.

"You remember what I told you at Token's party?" he asks, his breath ghosting over Craig's neck. "I meant it, and I still do, you know."

He's quiet for a moment and stays close even as the song switches over to a faster-paced Billy Idol song that Craig is also almost positive Tweek and Jimmy are responsible for.

"I don't want to say it again until I'm sure I can give you what you deserve," he says then pulls away.

Craig is taller than Clyde but feels small standing before him now. He nods in response then snags Clyde's hands to pull him into a goofy dance to break the tension if nothing else. He smiles when Clyde breaks into laughter and smiles even harder when Tweek and Jimmy manage to find them, Token and Wendy trailing after them. Craig knows they had to have been watching from afar.

They dance in a large cluster of a group, none of them save for Token and Wendy possessing any semblance of rhythm but managing to have fun anyway.

Craig breaks away from the dance floor only once the dance has started winding down anyway and finds a spot at an empty table. Tweek and Jimmy are still at it, their attempts at dancing still the funniest thing Craig has ever seen.

"Hey!" Wendy calls after she has managed to disentangle herself from the clusterfuck that is their friends. She takes a seat next to him, sounding slightly winded.

Craig leans his chin in his hand, aiming a half smile at her. Token's on his way over too, his arms full of drinks that Craig's mildly impressed he doesn't spill even when Jimmy jostles him. He takes a seat on Wendy's other side and carefully sets the drinks down, passing one to Craig.

"Still battling things out with Clyde, huh?" he says, aiming a pointed look at Clyde across the floor where he's been trapped in a dance off with Tweek and Jimmy.

"I think we've called a truce for now," he says, sipping at his drink. "I invited him to our New Year's soiree."

He doesn't miss Token's eye roll and readies an argument, but Token shrugs instead, fiddling with the rim of his cup.

"The more, the merrier," he says, and Craig is eternally grateful that he's willing to try for his sake.

"You guys having a boy's night on New Year's?" Wendy asks.

"You're welcome to come too," Craig offers. "It can be a gender neutral night instead. We'll just have to change the banners."

Wendy laughs as Token kicks his shin under the table.

"What is with you and inviting people to my house?" Token asks, the smile on his face letting them both know he's kidding.

"I appreciate the offer, but I already have plans," Wendy says then turns to face Token in her seat. "Speaking of plans," she says in a low voice.

Craig sees the heat rise in Token's face even in the low light and downs the rest of his drink in a flash.

"Oh barf, I guess I'll be leaving you two alone," he says and stands. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

The list of things he wouldn't do isn't very long, but it's the thought that counts.

He heads back to Jimmy and Tweek, who have finally released Clyde from their clutches and look tired enough to no longer have any dance moves left in them.

"Ready to go?" Tweek asks him, his hair and clothes a bigger mess than usual.

"Yeah, let's get out of here," Craig says, "you guys look like you're ready to crash."

"Sp-speak for yourself," Jimmy says in spite of looking like he's dead on his feet, "I could g-go all n-ni-night!"

Craig laughs and claps him on the shoulder. "Sure looks like it."

He follows Tweek and Jimmy out of the gym then, giving Token a thumbs up as he passes where he and Wendy are tangled together in semi-shadow.

It's only once they're nestled back in Tweek's car and back on the road that the events of the night catch up to him, but he finds he's too tired to sort through everything at the moment. He's sure Ruby will grill him for details tomorrow at any rate.

Tweek pulls up in front of Craig's house, twisting in his seat. "Tonight was a lot of fun," he says. "We should do this again sometime."

"Anytime, anyplace," Craig says as he steps out onto the curb. "Bye guys."

He waves them off as they take off down the road and turns to head inside, pausing at the sight of a familiar figure perched on the doorstep. Craig approaches slowly and drops onto the step close enough for their shoulders to brush.

"We still on for New Year's?" Craig asks.

Clyde smiles in the dim glow of the porch light and leans into Craig's shoulder. Craig can still smell his cologne. He should really ask about that.

"Is Token okay with that?"

"He said, and I quote, 'the more, the merrier,'" he answers.

"Then yes," Clyde says.

He doesn't say anything for a long while after, but Craig finds he doesn't mind. He feels relaxed, more relaxed than he has in a while. His brain is quiet for what feels like the first time.

"You know, I still wish I had asked you to the dance," Clyde says, his voice quiet.

"It's not too late, Donovan," Craig responds, and apparently that's all Clyde needed. He stands and holds a hand out to Craig for the second time that night, pulling him close. They dance close to no music except the far off sounds of traffic. It's too cold, but neither seems to mind.

"I wonder what your dad would have said if you had told him you were taking me," Craig wonders aloud. He doesn't miss the way Clyde's shoulders tense beneath his hands or the way their dancing comes to a complete halt.

Clyde pushes him back to arms length, his gaze flitting over to his own darkened house. Craig doesn't miss that either.

"It's pretty cold out," Clyde says, "we should head in now."

Craig wants to argue, wants to say anything to get him to stay and talk and open up to Craig finally. Instead, he nods and lets Clyde go. He stands where he is long after Clyde has already gone inside.

One step forward, three steps back, but he thinks he might have everything figured out this time.


End file.
